


Black Star

by bookscatscoffee



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha Gladiolus Amicitia, Alpha Noctis Lucis Caelum, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Prophecy (Final Fantasy XV), Beta Ignis Scientia, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, OT4, Omega Prompto Argentum, Omega Verse, Slow Burn, Soft Boys, Touch-Starved, background politics, plus 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscatscoffee/pseuds/bookscatscoffee
Summary: Noctis hasn’t felt so drawn to a scent since he met Prompto. A stranger with a scent that called to his very being and a smile that brightened his day—his life. He’d introduced his new best friend as soon as he could, and then they were signing him up for the Crownsguard, getting him approved with the king, and completing their pack. Or, that’s what they all thought.Now, Noctis is carefully stepping through some abandoned warehouse, determined to find the owner of this new smell calling to them. His gaze lands on an omega girl huddled in the corner. Who’s pointing a gun at him. He holds up his hands and tries to give the warmest smile possible.“Uh, hello,” he greets.“Don’t come any fucking closer, alpha.”Oh, boy.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia/Reader
Comments: 33
Kudos: 141





	1. cruel summer

The sun hangs low in the sky overhead Lucis, and Noctis is halfway to a blissful nap when Prompto breaks the tranquil silence of the car.

“Oh, oh, look at the sun right over that cliff! I gotta get a shot of that, please?”

Noctis peeks at Ignis’ expression in the rearview mirror. If they don’t stop, they could make it to Insomnia by sundown, and they’re all exhausted from their summer trip to hunt Royal Arms. But Ignis, even as their hard-ass advisor and pack beta, can’t resist Prompto’s puppy dog eyes.

Ignis sighs and finds a spot to pull over. Prompto cheers and starts adjusting settings on his camera. Noctis snorts, stretches, and leans over to shake Gladio awake. He’s up in a matter of seconds.

“This ain’t the fuckin city. If this thing broke down again—”

“It’s picture time!”

Prompto leaps out of the car before Ignis finishes parking. Noctis laughs under his breath, and Gladio curses.

“Slow down, darling,” Ignis calls after their omega.

Prompto’s already setting up his camera stand and getting the angle just right. They catch up to him while he takes a couple shots of the scenery.

“Where you want us, Prom?” Noctis asks, rubbing some sleep from his eyes.

“Not right in front of the sun. More like, over here!”

They shuffle over to where Prom gestures them. Noctis buries his face into Ignis’ chest as they wait for him to finish getting the timer set. Ignis strokes his dark locks, even though Noctis is sure it’s disgustingly greasy. Finally, Prom bounces over to them. Gladio pulls him into a headlock and plants a sloppy kiss in his hair as the picture snaps.

“Aw, dude! My hair.”

Gladio laughs and ruffles it more.

Noctis rolls his eyes at them, and frowns when he feels Ignis tense.

“Specs?”

“I’m afraid we have some trouble.”

They follow his line of sight, where an Imperial airship is currently dropping off units.

“What are they doing so close to the city?” Prom asks, whisking his camera and its stand back into the Armiger.

“Dunno, but they’re blocking our way to the car,” Noctis grumbles. So much for a shower and warm bed tonight.

The airship flies off into the distance, leaving the MTs behind, and Noctis and his pack spring into action.

They’re tired and sloppy, but they get done with minimal issues. They’ve drifted a bit further from their car from Noctis’ warping during the fight.

The sun is dangerously low now, and the only coverage in sight is a worn-down shack with a busted windmill.

Noctis prays they’re close enough to _something_ to avoid another night of camping.

“It looks we’ll have to stop in Hammerhead for the night,” Ignis says, typing at his phone.

Prompto winces. “Sorry, guys.”

Noctis and Gladio go to reassure him as the desert wind picks up. They freeze.

Noctis turns on his heel, glancing around for any signs of life. That smells like _them_. Like their pack.

“What the hell is that?” Gladio says.

Prom walks next to Noctis, closer to the shack in the distance.

“It’s another omega,” he murmurs. Noctis blinks.

“Why would they be out here?”

“A hunter, maybe,” Gladio adds.

Ignis hurries past them all. “It’s getting late, gentlemen. We need to move.”

“You guys smell it, right?” Noctis asks. “It smells like us.”

“Yeah, princess, we caught that,” Gladio answers.

“Let’s spread out!”

Prompto breaks into a run before any of them reply, heading towards the side with the windmill. Ignis sighs and goes after him.

Noctis and Gladio slow down when they reach the building. The scent is much stronger now, and very distressed.

“Hello?” Noctis calls as they enter the crumbling structure. “Anyone here?”

Gladio snorts at his diplomacy. Noctis ignores him, glancing around warily. Much of the building is blocked off due to the wreckage, and they have to step carefully to avoid anything else falling on them. But the scent is so, so close.

Noctis hasn’t felt so drawn to a scent since he met Prompto. A stranger with a scent that called to his very being and a smile that brightened his day—his life. He’d introduced his new best friend as soon as he could, and then they were signing him up for the Crownsguard, getting him approved with the king, and completing their pack.

Or, that’s what they all thought.

Now, Noctis is carefully stepping through some abandoned warehouse, determined to find the owner of this new smell calling to them. The daemons will be out soon, but he knows they can’t leave empty-handed.

He and Gladio pause before some heavy wreckage with a small opening. The trail seems to lead through it.

“Hello?” He calls again. No answer.

Astrals, are they even conscious? He shares a glance with his Shield.

“Well, I’m not fittin through there. Looks like your scrawny ass is playin hero.”

Noctis mutters under his breath about his useless bodyguard and shuffles through the wreckage. On the other side, he lifts his head and searches.

His gaze lands on an omega girl huddled in the corner. Who’s pointing a gun at him. He holds up his hands and tries to give the warmest smile possible.

“Uh, hello,” he greets.

“Don’t come any fucking closer, alpha.”

Oh, boy.

* * *

You did not escape your prison, stowaway on an airship, and outrun MT units just to die in a shack.

There’s no way.

You should’ve known it was all too easy. After years and years of being a captive, being neglected and mocked and abused, that escape shouldn’t have been so uneventful. That’s what the Empire deserves for trying to replace all the human soldiers with MTs, you’d thought.

Of course, there had to be an inspection on the airship you’d been able to hide in—done by the men you’d just run from. Your side is bleeding pretty badly from a gunshot wound, but at least you lost them and found a hiding place.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been hiding, and you know you heard an airship dropping units right outside.

Now there’s an alpha right in front of you, not an MT, an actual human. He looks too good to be true.

Astrals, he’s gorgeous. And probably here to drag you back to the Empire. 

“I’m not going back,” you tell him. “You’ll have to kill me.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.

“Then I’ll kill myself.”

He flinches. His pretty blue eyes flicker to your side.

“You’re hurt. We can help you, okay? We have potions.”

You don’t know what a potion is, but the alluring scent that’s been filling the structure invades your head until your thoughts slow and muddle. It pulls at something deep in your gut. You cover your nose and mouth with one hand.

If you pass out, they’ll take you back. There’ll be no way to fight him off, and you’ll wake up in your cell. Probably somewhere worse. Maybe they’ll tie you up again, or maybe they’ll take you to the MT labs—the gun starts to wobble in your trembling grip.

The alpha has been talking, apparently.

“—So, here, I’ll sit, okay? I’m sorry.”

You frown, and realize how out-of-place he would seem in the Empire. His hair is too dark, and he has a suntan that would be impossible to attain in the cold there. The scent clogging your lungs starts to recede. It still swirls deep in your chest, like it had before you’d caught sight of this boy, but you could think clearly again.

“What kind of drug was that?” You blurt out.

“Drug? You mean, my scent?”

You wrinkle your nose. “This smell is you?”

“Yeah. Does it not, you know…”

“Does it what?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Never mind, I guess.”

“Are you not from the Empire?”

“Hell no!”

You lower your gun. “Oh.”

“I’m from Insomnia.”

“But, I heard the airship—”

“It dropped MT units, my pack and I took them out. Then we smelled you, and came looking.”

“You took out the units?”

He’d saved you. He and his pack. Those units would have stumbled in here eventually, and you know deep down you wouldn’t have been able to hold them all off.

His eyes soften. “Yeah. They’re gone. There’s no airship out there, just my dad’s old ass car.” He stands and treads over to you, holding out his hand.

“I’m Noctis.”

You try to take his hand, but wince when the movement pulls at your wound. Noctis leans down to pull you up, letting your weight rest on him. His scent is impossible to ignore now. It stirs in your chest and locks in your heart.

“Hi, Noctis. I’m Y/N.”

You haven’t been called your name since before you were taken, and those memories from before are hazy, more dreams than reality.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hiya!”

A strange omega pops up through the wreckage. You shove Noctis away.

“Liar!” You hiss, aiming your gun at them.

The omega bites his lip and takes a step back.

“Excuse me?” Noctis says.

“Liar! He’s obviously from Niflheim!”

“I’m not—”

“No, Y/N, calm down, okay? This is Prompto, he’s part of my pack. He’s lived in Insomnia his whole life. Tell her, Prom.”

Prompto swallows. “Been in Lucis as long as I can remember.”

“I know I’ve seen you somewhere before,” you reply.

Your head spins, and once you pulled away from Noctis your chest began to ache, spreading further with every heartbeat.

You think Prompto says something back, but focusing is difficult. Your gun clatters to the ground.

Noctis’ arms are around you again. He speaks low, and then Prompto is at your other side. They lead you towards the crawl hole; one of them goes first and helps you through.

You let yourself curl up on the floor.

There are two more men on the other side. One kneels down to touch you, and you roll away, reaching for Noctis. He pulls you back into his chest, and you slip into darkness.

* * *

“Was she saying she’s from the Empire?”

“Hush, Gladio,” Ignis says. He reaches for you once more, now that you’ve passed out. Noctis shifts you in his hold so they can look at your wounds.

“The gunshot doesn’t seem terribly deep, but she’s lost too much blood. She must have run for quite a while before hiding here.”

“If she’s from the Empire, we can’t take her with us,” Gladio continues. He’s the only one still standing.

“You wanna leave her here?” Noctis growls. “She’ll die.”

“We’re on the brink of a war, Noct. If they’re looking for her, they’ll be pissed if they find out she was taken into Insomnia by the prince himself.”

“We take in refugees all the time!”

“You ever seen them huntin someone down like this?”

“I’m a Niflheim refugee.”

The alphas stop and stare at Prompto. He’s staring down at you, lips pressed in a tight line. Noctis gapes at his best friend.

“What?”

Ignis stands and pushes his glasses up. “We must reach Hammerhead before nightfall. We can tend to this young woman there, and discuss things further when she awakens.”

He holds out a hand to pull Prompto up. Gladio swallows. Noctis stands with you in his arms, still glaring at Gladio.

“Noctis,” Ignis continues, “I need to look at her wounds sooner rather than later. If you could drive, so I can sit in the back and tend to her.”

“Yeah, got it.”

Easier said than done. When Noctis tries to set you down in the backseat of the Regalia, you cry out and cling tighter to his shirt. He shushes you and sits in the back, pushing out a comforting scent, and you settle down. He looks up at Ignis for help.

Prompto and Gladio froze in their spots at the sound of their distressed omega—Noctis hasn’t even told them your name yet, Astrals—while Ignis stays unaffected and frowns down at them.

“Oh, dear.”

Gladio grumbles, “I’ll drive,” and snatches the keys from Ignis. “Keep an eye on the royal pain in the ass.”

Ignis scoffs, and Noctis slides over to make room in the back. Prompto hops into the passenger’s seat, and turns around on his knees to watch.

Gladio pulls onto the road and races the sunset to Hammerhead. Noctis and Prompto used to tease the Shield about how much he avoids driving, until Ignis had finally told them why; he can’t focus on the road and Noct’s safety at the same time. He definitely didn’t give his Shield more cuddles after he found out.

The ride to Hammerhead is tense; the only sounds are Prompto fiddling with his camera and you whimpering as Ignis checks your wounds. The bullet had stayed lodged in your side while you ran to shelter. Ignis has to summon their first aid kit and use tweezers to pull the bullet free. Noctis keeps his scent heavy to help you sleep through the pain, and Prompto almost drifts off along with you.

By the time the five of you arrive at the outpost, Ignis has gotten the wound clean enough to use a potion. You become mush in Noctis’ arms rather than tense and twitchy. It’s just the two of you in the caravan at first, and he sets you down on one of the beds before he washes your torso down with a warm washcloth.

His cheeks burn when he changes you into an old hoodie and pair of sweatpants of his, upon Ignis’ suggestion. Now, you’re bundled up in blankets, sound asleep with your head in his lap where he sits up against the bed’s headboard. Prompto’s saying hello to Cindy while Ignis and Gladio grab a few of their things from the Regalia. The three of them arrive together.

Prompto bounces over to the two of you. “She sure did take a liking to you, huh, buddy?”

Noctis snorts. “Dunno how. She mostly kept a gun pointed at me.”

Ignis hums and sets some food down in the small kitchen, grabbing his cooking utensils.

“I believe you two may have imprinted on each other.”

Gladio drops the bags on the floor.

“Imprinting? Really, Noct?”

Noctis ducks his head. He’s too tired to fight. “What, like I meant to?”

He isn’t sure of all the details that come with imprinting, but he hadn’t done anything special when he spoke to you. When he held you the first time, something clicked in his chest, almost like a mating bond. The intense rush of emotions never followed, like with the rest of his pack, only the need to protect.

“Nothing is confirmed,” Ignis replies. “It was an observation. She seems to have been through some traumatizing events in the Empire before she escaped. Then an alpha, a predestined alpha at that, showing up with such kindness makes it quite likely.”

Gladio grits his teeth. “This doesn’t feel off to you, Iggy?”

“The circumstances are strange,” he adds. “But we don’t have any reason to suspect her of being a spy at the moment. Neither of us have even had to chance to speak to her, or learn her name. Be patient.”

Gladio groans and rubs a hand down his face before marching to the single bathroom and locking himself in for a shower.

“You really think she might be a spy, Iggy?” Prompto asks. He bites his lip and sits on the side of the bed. Noctis glances up at his advisor.

“We can’t rule it out, predestined or no,” he sighs and sets his cutting knife down on the counter. “But we also cannot condemn her of anything just yet. All we can do at the moment is take care of ourselves and wait until she wakes up.”

Noctis swallows and gazes back to your sleeping form. He pushes a few strands of hair from your face. He has no idea what he’s going to say to his father or the Council once you all return, but he knows one thing for sure—you aren’t leaving his side.

* * *

In your hazy sleep, you’ve never felt so warm. It reminds you of your old life, where you would dance through the wide halls of your home with your sister, and sit in your mother’s lap at the dinner table, and follow your brother out into the lawn when he trained. Their faces and names are lost to you, but the filter of love that coats the memories stays.

This warmth is different. It is not a faraway memory or unrecognizable voice; it fills your bones and brings a smile to your face.

You sit up in this space, blinking your eyes at the light. There is nothing around you but endless white lights. The warmth comforts you, but this room is an empty vacuum. You pull your knees to your chest.

A patch of darkness appears.

“You’ve slipped so far away from me, my dear.”

You bite at the inside of your cheek.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I can still keep an eye on you.”

It’s too close, too fucking close, after everything—you can’t seem to back away. A cold hand cups your face.

“You’ve been quite awful, haven’t you? Running away like this. You’re lucky I’m so forgiving.”

Your head pounds, and you think it might split in two, but it’s too late to escape now.

“After all, what are fathers for?”


	2. high hopes

You wake up sweating and gasping. You’re in a small bed in a small room, and the voices that fill it pause as you look around. You’re still blinking away your dream—the details slip from your memory each second.

The group from yesterday is at a small table in the corner. You pull your knees to your chest while they stare. The pretty one hurries over to sit at the edge of the bed. You curl your hands in the sheets so you don’t reach for him.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greets. “How are you feeling?”

You touch at the side where your wound is. “Oh, I feel much better. Thank you.”

“You’re probably quite hungry,” one of the other men, the beta, says. “I’ve just finished breakfast.” He stands and goes to the counter to fix a plate before bringing it to you.

“My name is Ignis. I’m glad to know you’re feeling better.”

You blink at the food in your hands. “What is this?”

The pretty one frowns. “Eggs, bacon, and some pastries. Do you like sweet stuff?”

Instead of responding, you grab the pastry and take a bite. Your squeal is muffled by the food, and you quickly swallow it.

“Astrals. I’ve never had anything so…sweet?” You scarf down the rest and lick the sticky icing off your fingers.

“Slow down, love,” Ignis says. “There’s plenty more.”

“Yeah, Iggy’s a great cook! He always makes plenty,” the omega chirps from the table.

The unease you’d felt when first seeing him is gone now, leaving guilt behind.

“Oh, hi. Sorry for pulling a gun on you guys…and, what are your names again?”

“I’m Prompto! I’m sorry for scaring you yesterday. I thought you might feel better seeing another omega.”

Your furrow your eyebrows. “I don’t think I’ve been around another omega, actually. So that doesn’t matter much.”

“Oh, that’s…” Prompto bites his lip and doesn’t continue.

“I’m Noctis.”

“Noctis. Right.”

You glance down and tug at the dark sleeve of the hoodie you’re in. “Are these yours?”

“Uh, yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck and turns away. “Sorry. Your clothes were pretty ruined.”

You shrug. The sleeves fall over your hands; you cover your nose and breathe deeply, the scent washing away the lingering anxiety from your dream. Noctis stares at you from under his bangs.

Your face heats up. “Sorry, was that weird?”

“No! Not at all. Totally not weird.”

You pick up your fork to try the rest of your food. Ignis sighs, and Prompto giggles.

“The name’s Gladio,” the other alpha says. He looks too big for the table. “And I’m wondering what you’re doing out here in Lucis.”

“I was running away.”

“From?”

“The Empire.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Got that. How come?”

“I was—”

Sharp pains pulse at the front of your skull. You curl up into yourself, clutching at your hair. Noctis wraps his arms around you.

You keep thinking back, and back, to the day just before yesterday—to nothing. Something cold. Constricting. But that’s all.

You focus on Noctis saying, “It’s okay, it’s okay—” and then pull away from him, smoothing your hair down and shoving your hands in the hoodie pocket. He keeps one arm around your shoulders.

Prompto is sitting by your feet now, and keeps going back and forth between reaching out or pulling away. Ignis hovers nearby with a thoughtful frown, and Gladio is gripping the edge of the table so hard you think he might crack it. His expression is stormy, but unreadable.

“What happened?” Prompto asks. He finally decides to rest a hand on your ankle, stroking with his thumb. Something about his touch is comforting in a different way than Noctis’, and you stop yourself from reaching for him, too.

“I just can’t—” You wince again and try to clear your mind. The others tense. “Something’s wrong with me.”

Ignis kneels next to the bed. “Can you explain just a bit more, darling? What’s hurting you?”

“I don’t know what’s going on—I can’t think back past yesterday, but I know I _could_ yesterday, I had a plan to run away. But it’s all vague and cold. Really cold. I remember—” You scrunch your eyes shut. “Just being alone. Kinda numb.”

You open your eyes again, and the boys are sharing glances. You look down at the bed and notice the plate and scattered food to the side.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I spilt it all,” you cry. Your empty stomach churns.

“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto says, scooting forward to grab everything back onto the plate.

“Yeah, there’s plenty,” Noctis adds. Ignis takes the plate from Prompto to go toss the fallen food into the trash.

“You can make this call, Iggy.” Gladio stands and dumps his plate in the sink. They’re standing so close you can’t see Ignis’ expression when he replies.

“As if I expected anything else.”

He walks to the door of the room and begins typing something on a phone.

“Come with me, Highness,” he calls back.

Noctis groans and trudges outside after him.

The room is silent. Gladio gives you another once over. Prompto hops up from the bed and goes to the counter, rummaging through their things.

“You liked the pastry, right, Y/N? They’re some type of Tenebrae sweet roll Iggy’s been trying out.”

“Yes, it was probably the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Gladio snorts. “Not sayin much, right now, kid.”

Prompto narrows his eyes at him.

You shrug and swallow down the feeling bubbling in your throat. “I guess not.”

Prompto’s returning grin is like pulling back the blinds on a window. He brings you another roll and plops down onto the bed, leaning up against your side.

“I think I saw a smile! How many rolls do I gotta feed you to see more?” He wiggles the roll by your nose.

The feeling bubbles in your chest again, and you’re so surprised this time you can’t hold it down. You giggle, and then cover your mouth with your hands. He giggles back and tears off a piece of the roll to feed you, his scent washing through you. It softens the cold ball in your chest; the tension melts from your shoulders. You curl into his side and tuck your head into his chest.

Gladio’s expression is softer than before, and he quickly turns away. You let your eyes fall shut after Prompto hands you another bite of the roll.

It’s a few minutes later when Noctis comes back inside. You’ve finished the roll and began to doze off on the bed with Prompto, who’d pulled out his phone. Noctis stands in the doorway staring at you two. Gladio had been reading at the table after cleaning up, and when he catches Noctis staring, he goes over and claps him on the back.

Noctis shoves him off. “So, we’re headed home soon.”

Prompto whoops. “I miss our bed, dude.”

The realization drowns you. You pull away from him and stare at your lap.

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you for your help.”

You had a plan at one point, you’d escaped the Empire—you have no memory of doing so, but you’ll survive. Without them.

You swallow. “I had a gun, right? If I have that I should be fine. No one knows me here.”

“We’re not leaving you!”

Your head snaps up at Noctis’ outburst. He’s at the foot of the bed, his hands balled up at his sides. Gladio crosses his arms and waits behind him.

“If you want,” Prompto murmurs. “You can come with us. We can help figure out what’s going in your head.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, cause you’re one of us.”

“I’m what?”

Noctis yanks Prompto up and pulls him close.

“You, uh, fit in good with us,” Noctis says. Gladio and Prompto share a confused glance.

You’re not sure what Noctis means by his words, but it lightens your heart nonetheless.

“Oh, well, I don’t have any way to repay you. But once I have my memories back, I’ll be sure to find something.”

Ignis enters the room before any of them respond.

“Everything is in order for our return,” he says. “We should gather our things and get on the road.”

The three of them scatter to collect their stuff. Gladio and Prompto whisper to Noctis and he hisses back a response. You slid your bare feet onto the floor and glance around for anything you might be able to help with.

Ignis approaches you with a small smile. “Did his Highness explain things?”

“Highness?”

He sighs. “We’re headed back home to the city of Insomnia, the capital of Lucis.”

“Right! Noctis said I could stay with you guys until we figure out what’s wrong with my memory.”

“You can stay with us as long as you’d like.”

You blush; Ignis is much more intense than Noctis and Prompto.

“Is that all he said?” He continues. You nod. He sighs again and pulls Noctis over.

“Your Highness,” he stresses, and Noctis winces. “Before we leave you will introduce yourself properly to Miss Y/N.”

You stand and clasp your hands behind you. “What’s going on?”

Noctis shuffles his feet. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum, son of King Regis Lucis Caelum, blah blah titles.”

You look Noctis up and down in his cap, t-shirt, and cargo pants. Finally, you wrinkle your nose.

“You’re a prince?”

Gladio barks a laugh, and Prompto stifles his giggles.

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

More laughter like before bubbles in your chest and spills out. You cover your face with your hands—these feelings are all so new. Noctis chuckles under his breath as Ignis wraps an arm around his shoulders and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Then, a realization. You march over to Gladio.

“That’s why you don’t like me! You’re like, what, his bodyguard? I almost shot him.”

“I would’ve dodged,” Noctis says.

“A bullet?” You squeak.

Prompto almost falls over laughing.

“I never said I didn’t like you, brat,” Gladio replies, and then grabs you into a loose headlock. “Someone’s gotta be careful when Noct picks up these helpless little omegas.”

“Hey!”

“Shut it, Gladio.”

“I had a gun!”

Ignis gets the room under control and demands everyone get back to packing. The boys had only taken out a few things for the night, so there’s not much for you to help with. Within minutes, you’re following them outside to their car.

You blink at the harsh sunlight. You’d all been in a small caravan on the edge of an outpost. The handful of buildings stand out against the shining yellow sand that stretches to the horizon. You stay close to Noctis while the boys lead you to their car.

A young omega woman stands next to the sleek, black convertible. She greets the boys kindly, and then her gaze lands on you.

“Oh, you must be the sweet lil thing they whisked away!”

She moves past them to pull you into a tight hug. You freeze at the sudden contact, her omega scent is sweet, but you’re too shocked to return the hug before she pulls away.

“My name’s Cindy, and I’m just delighted that you’re feelin better. Prom texts me all the time when these boys are bein dumb, and you can too, alrighty?”

Noctis mutters something behind you. You’re not sure how to respond to this random kindness.

“Oh, thank you? My name is Y/N.” You tug at your hoodie sleeve and smile. It’s much hotter outside than in the caravan.

“Y/N? Ain’t that the cutest! Well, I won’t hold ya up. Drive this baby back carefully, boys.”

You think she’s talking about you at first, but then she pats the hood of the car as she heads back to the garage.

“Are all Lucians so…touchy?” You ask. The boys had been squabbling over the seating arrangements.

“Nah, it’s more an omega thing. We’re pretty tactile, you know? Being cozy with other omegas is just, natural, I guess. Cindy’s extra friendly to everyone though,” Prompto explains and climbs into the front seat.

You glance over at Gladio and Noctis, who were definitely not omegas, and frown. “Oh, okay.”

Noctis slides into the middle seat in the back, and you sit next to him, behind Ignis.

“If you’ve never been around others of your secondary gender, I can see how some instincts for you may have gotten lost,” Ignis adds. He pulls out of Hammerhead, beginning your journey.

You attempt to hold down your hair as the wind rushes by.

“I didn’t talk to a lot of people,” you say. You can’t recall specifics, but know this to be true when you say it. “I haven’t heard my name this much in a while.”

The car is silent save for the wind, so you lean back and watch the rocky landscape fly past.

“A while, huh?” Gladio mutters.

“It’s nice.”

The car ride isn’t too long, and the landscape is breathtaking to you. The canyons on the horizon and packs of wildlife dotting the plains are free and unrestrained. The warm sunlight is like a cozy blanket. Ignis explains a bit what the city is like, as well as the Citadel where you’ll be staying for now.

“We’re supposed to be meeting up with the Marshal when we first arrive, but I’m certain the king will intercept us somehow.”

Noctis lets out a long sigh. You lean your head on his shoulder to watch him tap away on his phone. It looks like the same game Prompto had been playing this morning.

“Now, when you meet the king, there are certain manners you must abide by—”

“Uh, yeah. He’s a king, I know all that.”

Noctis stutters in his tapping and loses a life. You frown up at him. He’s looking at Ignis in the rearview mirror.

“You meet a lot of kings, Y/N?” Gladio asks, snapping his book shut.

You wrinkle your nose at his tone. “Everyone knows that stuff, right?”

“Do tell,” Ignis replies.

“Like, bow at the waist, address them with ‘your majesty’, don’t interrupt, only speak when you’re spoken to, yeah?”

“More or less.”

“How do you know all that?” Noctis says.

You try to think, but your head pounds. You shrug. “It just sounds right, I guess. Is that not something people know?”

Noctis kicks at Prompto, who has slid down low in his seat during this conversation.

“Tell her, Prom.”

Ignis quickly explains that Prompto and Noctis met at school, and so they had to teach him royal protocol like any other citizen.

“Except he was so nervous meeting my dad,” Noctis teases.

“Dude, shut up!”

Gladio snorts. “He called the king ‘mister sir your majesty’, and then almost curtsied when we left.”

Ignis clears his throat and fights down a smile. Prompto puts his face in his hands as you and Noctis laugh.

“I forgot which one! There was a lot going on.”

“Mister sir your majesty,” Noctis mocks.

“Shut up!” Prompto twists in his seat to smack him, and he kicks back in retaliation.

“That’s enough,” Ignis says, pulling up to the gates of a sprawling city.

You’re captivated by the high-rise buildings piercing the bright sky, and the curving bridges and roads cutting through the structures. Even from outside, you can spot the cars and citizens traveling about.

You sit up in your seat and twist to see past the wall where the car has stopped. A guard comes out of the small checkpoint. Ignis presses a button, and the car’s top rises up from the back to close. Noctis pulls you back down.

Ignis flashes some papers at the guard, and they’re waved through.

“Why is the top up?” You ask.

“We’re in the capital now. People are gonna be staring,” he mutters.

“So?”

“So, it’s annoying.”

You huff and lean up against the window to catch glimpses of the city, but they’re heavily tinted and difficult to see through.

Noctis shifts until neither of you are touching anymore; your throat starts to ache and the air inside the car is thick. You hold your breath to ignore it, and the tightness spreads to your lungs.

“It’s for your security as well, Y/N,” Ignis adds. “Word would quickly spread through the city of a new omega with the crown prince and his pack. Until we can find some answers about your memories and your connection to the Empire, it would be better to keep you out of the public’s eye.”

You clear your throat before answering. “Okay, I get it. This city is just so…”

“Imposing?” Noctis snaps.

“Strong. And lively.”

You focus on the view outside and soak in as much as you can until you’re shut away in another building, by another government, for who knows how long. Despite the similarities, you smile as Ignis turns up the radio, Prompto hums along, Noctis plays on his phone, and Gladio turns the pages of his book.

You can’t explain it, but you know this has to be better than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Dads!


	3. breathin

A stoic man stands at the top of the steps to the Citadel, with guards in dark uniforms lining the sides. You stay in the middle of the boys as you climb the steps to the entrance.

“Hey, Cor,” Noctis greets.

“Good to see you, Marshal,” Ignis adds.

“Your Highness,” Cor responds, nodding to the others. “This is the runaway?”

You step forward. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

He keeps his arms crossed and narrows his eyes. You resist the urge to look back at the pack, and hold out one hand for a handshake.

He takes it and gives a firm shake. For such an imposing figure, he has no alpha scent. Still, you’re relieved when Noctis joins your side.

“Apparently Clarus wants some tests run on her?” Noctis asks.

You swallow and stare at the large doors behind Cor.

“As does everyone but His Majesty.”

He pivots and heads inside without looking back.

Noctis scoffs and leads you along. Ignis walks on your other side, with Gladio and Prompto trailing behind.

You want to gaze at the arched halls you’re being led through, or the grand rooms you’re passing, but you can’t take your eyes off of Cor.

“You’re doing well, darling,” Ignis murmurs.

“What kinds of tests?” You whisper.

They don’t answer at first, and you jump to the worst conclusions. Noctis takes your hand and squeezes.

“Just stupid security stuff,” he says.

“They’re very simple,” Ignis explains. “Normally, you would need to pass security clearance to even enter the Citadel, but we’re pulling a few strings. To stay here with us, you must pass the tests assuring security that you aren’t here to cause any harm to the royal family or leak any government information.”

You take a deep breath and squeeze Noctis’ hand back. You trust them more than you should; this pack gives you a hope you’ve never felt. Your heart stutters in your chest, surrounded by their warmth and scents. You will pass these tests if it means just a bit more time with them.

After a few minutes, you enter a narrower, simpler hallway, and Cor swipes a card to open the next area. Down another hallway and past some turns, and then he finally pauses in front of two doors. He gestures to the left one.

“Your Highness, if you will all wait there for us.”

You freeze at the thought of being separated. Noctis doesn’t move.

“Why can’t we stay with her?”

“Noct, c’mon,” Gladio groans. He walks up to Noctis and places a hand on his lower back.

You pull your hand away so they can leave. It will be better if they don’t have to watch you pass the test, anyway. Ignis smooths down your hair and gives you a smile as he leads Prompto to the other room. He flashes you a grin, while Noctis throws an apologetic look over his shoulder.

Cor opens the door on the right for you, and you scurry inside.

The room is small. Florescent lights shine harshly from above. One wall is made of dark glass, while the rest are steel. A single table with two chairs and a small machine on top is in the middle of the room. There are no other people besides you and Cor.

This is fine, you’ve done one-on-one tests before—except you don’t see anything for a test lying around.

“What are you gawking around for?”

You flinch and stare straight ahead. “Nothing.”

He pauses. “Sit down.”

You blink and wait for him to sit first before taking the seat across for him. You glance under the table, and then at the machine on top.

“Why do you already look confused?”

“Where is the test?”

You hate asking for it, but you’d rather know what’s coming than sit in suspense like this.

“This isn’t a school test. There’s no packet to fill out.”

“Packet? No, I was…”

This time he stays silent, his arms resting on the metal table as he stares you down.

“I was looking for the water bucket.”

“…I beg your pardon?”

“The water bucket, sir? For the test?”

“Why would I have a water bucket in here?”

You try to connect your reasoning to your past, but your head simply aches in response.

“For incorrect answers? To—” You dig your nails into your thighs.

“You believe this test involves a form of waterboarding?”

“…Yes?”

His expression twitches. You can’t read it, but he doesn’t confirm your statement.

“I am here to ask you some questions. I am head of the Crownsguard, one of our two military branches, and if you’re going to be a guest of the prince, I have to make sure your lost memory isn’t a bullshit spying attempt. I’m going to hook you up to a machine and ask you some basic questions, and then delve into your memories from there to see how your story holds up. Do you understand?”

The machine! If there’s only one other person, of course they use a machine. You nod to Cor and push your hair away from your face and temples.

“Hold out your hands.”

You frown and do as he says, pushing your sleeves up. He attaches the clasps to your wrists and one pointer finger, and then adjusts a few knobs until a screen on his side lights up.

“What is the name of the city we’re in?”

“Insomnia.”

“What is my name, and what am I the head of?”

“Cor. You’re the head of the Crownsguard.”

“What is the king of Lucis’ name?”

“Oh, they told me on the way here, but I don’t remember. It’s Noctis’ dad.”

“Did you know who Prince Noctis was when you met him?”

“No. I didn’t recognize any of them.”

Cor stares at the screen. “Any of them?”

“Well, I thought Prompto looked familiar. That’s it.”

He watches the screen for a few more seconds before continuing.

“Where did you run away from?”

“Niflheim. The Empire.”

“Why?”

“I don’t remember.”

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Y/N.”

“Last name?”

“What?”

“You have a last name?”

“Yes.”

Your head is pounding now, like this morning. You taste metal, and the inside of your cheek stings as you poke it with your tongue.

“Well?”

“My name is Y/N—”

You clench your hands to stop the trembling. Cor narrows his eyes.

“You’re confident that you have a last name.”

“Everyone has a last name.”

Resentment builds in your chest. It’s difficult to speak past it.

“Not always.”

“I do.”

He raises a brow. “All right. What’s your name?”

_What’s your name, Y/N?_

_You cough and sputter up bile and water. Some of it drips down your chin. Your eyes and lungs burn._

_My name is Y/N—_

_They know what you’re going to say. You’re held down again, gulping and choking underwater. You struggle against the hand gripping your head. It doesn’t budge; you scream and sob for a release. Maybe if you stay in this darkness instead, you’ll be home again._

_You don’t realize you’re brought up at first—your sight is dotted with colored spots. They’re asking that same question._

_Our name means honor, your brother always says._

_Our name means hope, your sister tells you._

_Instead of answering, you take a deep breath to meet the water._

“Breathe with me, Y/N. Breathe,” Noctis is saying to you.

You’re on the ground now; you take a huge, gasping breath that dissolves into sobs.

“Like this,” Noctis murmurs. He takes your hands and places them against his chest as he takes slow, deep breaths.

Your memory falls away like the retreating waves of the ocean. You stare at your hands in his and focus on breathing.

Finally, you’re in sync with him. He tries to tug you closer, but you crawl back and wipe your tears away. He swallows. You look down at your wrists where the machine had been hooked to you; your skin is bare and pale.

The rest of the pack has entered the room, along with an older man with a cane and a large man in an imposing uniform. They hover near the doorway, Gladio the closest to Noctis. Cor is standing near his seat, his mouth in a grim line.

“I guess I failed that, huh?” You say, rubbing at your wrists. They’re not even sore.

“What are you talking about?” Noctis replies.

“He shocked me pretty bad.”

“Shocked you? With the question?”

“Kid,” Cor grumbles. “I didn’t electrocute you. You had a panic attack.”

“…Oh.”

“You thought he electrocuted you?” Noctis yells.

You flinch back as his scent flares. Prompto makes a strangled noise.

“Noct,” Gladio warns.

“We’re done with this,” Noctis continues, and stands. He holds out a hand to you.

You hesitantly take it, and he pulls you up to his chest.

“C’mon, let’s go eat. We missed lunch.”

“But, I didn’t—”

“Whatever, you’re fine.”

The guard steps forward. “Your Highness—”

The man with the cane places a hand on his arm. “Just add extra security to their quarters for tonight, Clarus.”

Clarus sighs. Cor is still watching you closely; you cling a bit tighter to Noctis and hope it doesn’t look desperate. He walks you to the door. The rest of the pack glance back at the older gentlemen before bowing and leaving with you.

The man with the cane clasps Noctis’ shoulder and smiles warmly.

“I suppose our dinner will have to be later this week?”

“Yeah, sure. Later, dad.”

It’s not until you’re all back into the main section of the Citadel, gathering in an elevator that it hits you.

“That was your dad! Like, the king,” you shriek.

The boys jump at your outburst.

“Oh, right. I didn’t think you really wanted to be introduced,” Noctis says.

You put your head in your hands. “All that talk, and I didn’t even notice him.”

Ignis hums, and says, “If you’re so eager, I’m sure we could negotiate an earlier time to meet—”

“I’d rather not be a complete disaster when I see him again.”

“You weren’t a disaster!” Prompto assures you, throwing his arms around you and Noctis.

“The Marshal likes you, at least,” Gladio adds. “It’s kinda weird.”

“Cor? The one doing the test? Yeah, right.”

“He’s not that bad once you get to know him,” Prompto says. He lays his head on top of yours, and you almost sigh with content. Noctis still has an arm around your waist. “He’s like a big teddy bear.”

Gladio scoffs. “Teddy bear, sure. But he was lookin at you the way he looked at Prom when he joined the Crownsguard.”

“Like how?”

“It’s like a mix of…Realizing you’re so fuckin hopeless he feels sorry for you, but also responsible for you.”

Noctis cackles. You try to glare at Gladio, but Noctis’ laughter is too infectious, you and Prompto join him.

Gladio grins at Ignis, who shakes his head.

“Rude, but accurate.”

The elevator opens to an entry hall with only one room at the end. Two guards in dark uniforms flank the sides. Noctis nods to them and scans a card to open the door.

“Whoa,” Prompto says as you enter. “They brought all our stuff from the apartment!”

You gawk in the foyer while the boys head further inside to glance over their things. The foyer opens to a large living room with a TV on the wall and various devices hooked up to it. There’s a single door to the left, and then a hallway leads deeper inside. To the right of the living room, a round wooden table sits under a hanging light fixture, and beyond it is a spacious kitchen. A paneled window takes up the wall across from you. Sunlight stretches down the wooden floors.

You drift over to the window. Even as the sun sets, you spot so much life in the streets far below.

Ignis saunters up to you. His scent isn’t overpowering like Noctis’, but it’s grounding.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He says.

“There’s so much, so many people,” you answer. “Where are they all going?”

“Wherever they like, I suppose. Many people are getting off work and heading home at this time. But this city wasn’t named Insomnia without reason. There’s much to do here, and you’ll see the streets filled at all hours.”

You press your fingertips to the cool glass. “That sounds amazing.”

You’re filled with energy, suddenly, when you imagine what a life that must be. You tug on Ignis’ sleeve.

“Whatever tests I have to do to go out there, I’ll do them—I’ll ace them if it means I can just—”

He places his hands on his hands on your shoulders, and you breathe in his cool, minty scent. “These tests are not as intense as you may have experienced before, I assure you. Please try not to worry yourself over them. No one will harm you here.”

“We’ll take you out there,” Noctis interrupts. “Everyone here is just uptight.”

He and Gladio are sitting together on the couch. Gladio rolls his eyes.

“Listen, kid, whatever shit the Empire did during their ‘tests’ is not happening here. It’s just a bunch of important people asking you the same questions over and over again, got it?”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Gladio grits his teeth. 

“I know it may seem strange, love, especially since you’re missing your memories. But please, trust us,” Ignis adds.

Before you can ask anything else, there’s a yell down the hall.

“They touched all my nesting shit! Iggy!”

Ignis winces and walks deeper into the quarters. “I’m sorry, darling, I asked that they bring the most important items, so I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm—”

“Obviously there wasn’t an omega to tell them how stupid this was! They tried to arrange it in here!”

You follow behind Ignis, and hear Noctis and Gladio get up and follow.

In the hallway, there’s one door on the left, and two on the right. Clothes, pillows, and blankets fly out of the closest one on the right.

Ignis sighs as Prompto continues to grumble. He pokes his head out of the room.

“Where’s our stuff from the trip?”

“Uh, our bedroom, probably?” Noctis answers.

“I’ll get our bags,” Ignis says.

“And our pillows and blankets!”

“Yes, darling.”

You cautiously step forward to peek inside. The room is fairly small; all five of you would barely fit. There are some small shelves on the walls, and a bay window in the furthest one.

“What’s this for?”

“Well, it was a closet,” Noctis mutters.

Gladio chuckles. “It’s a perfect little room for you two to nest, though.”

Ignis returns with his arms full of bags, pillows, and blankets.

You wrinkle your nose. “To what?”

Everyone freezes.

Your face burns. “What’s wrong, now?”

“Nesting is an omega thing,” Noctis says. “It’s natural, like, uh, heats.”

“Then why haven’t I heard of it?”

You’re tired of feeling stupid around them. You’re an omega that’s never ‘nested’ before, and you’re just fine.

Gladio shrugs, but his jaw is tight. “You probably never got shit to nest with, and you didn’t know any omegas, so how would you?”

You want to scream in response to his casual tone. Your heart feels like it’s being constrained by wires, and it struggles to beat evenly.

Prompto is in front of you suddenly, taking your hands in his. “Well, you can help me with nesting now. Doesn’t matter about before, right?”

You nod and squeeze his hands. He pushes you into the little room, and gestures for Ignis to toss everything in.

After he does, Noctis stutters, “Are you sure you don’t want anything cleaner?”

Prompto shuts the door in response.

You sink to the ground by the pile Ignis has tossed in.

“Am I that weird?” You ask.

“Hey, it’s not you,” Prompto says. He kneels in front of you and takes your hands again, stroking with his thumbs.

“We’re all worried about you. It’s obvious that you went through a lot of stuff in the Empire, and it’s not fair. Noct and Gladio are trying not to be overbearing alphas, but they can’t protect you from the things you’ve already gone through, and can’t even remember, and that’s pissing them off. But this isn’t your fault. We’re here to help you now, okay?”

His smile is so soft, you can’t look at him. Your chest is so heavy.

“Why do you all care so much? I don’t understand why I’m staying with you, or why you’re making so many promises…I don’t have anything.”

He tilts his head. “You really don’t notice anything about our scents? Anything different?”

“I don’t know. You guys make me feel safe, and warm. I don’t remember anything else like it, but that doesn’t mean much…is it because you’re a pack?”

“Uh, well…” Prompto bites his lip and tightens his hold until it hurts. “I don’t know how to explain it. You’re just really special to us. Please don’t forget that.”

He wipes the tears off your cheeks. “Let’s fix this nest, okay?”

You nod, and then set to work with him.

There’s a handful of items by the window that he’s decided to be uncontaminated enough to use. The two of you sniff and arrange the blankets along the floor until it’s nice and soft to lay on. You gather the pillows along the walls and against the bay window as Prompto ties more blankets across the top shelves to make a lowered ceiling. He tells you about the photographs he usually keeps in the nest, too, along with strings of fairy lights. You can’t picture it in your mind, but trust his judgment.

Lastly, you sort through the others’ clothes and find the best pieces. You start to familiarize yourself with their styles; Ignis’ clothes are nice and silky, Gladio’s are large and musky, and Noctis’ are the softest and most comforting to you.

Once everything’s been sorted, Prompto tosses the bags and rejected clothes into the hallway before shutting you two back in.

He plops down in the middle of the nest and pats the spot next to him. You giggle and throw yourself down with him.

“Perfect,” he sighs.

You curl up next to him; every inhale of the pack’s scent cuts away at the tension in your chest. The nest is cozy and warm. An unfamiliar tingling settles in your chest and builds in your throat, you cough to clear it and then nestle closer to him. He wraps his arms around you, and the two of you drift off. 


	4. better off

When you wake up the next morning, Ignis is the only pack member in their quarters. You tip-toe out of the nest and wander into the kitchen, where you hear him putting away pots and pans. The smell of his cooking still hangs in the air, and you peak at the table for any hint of what they’d eaten.

Last night, you and Prompto had been awoken from your nap for dinner, but the greasy burgers and fries were too much for your stomach; you threw it all up, and the boys showed you your bedroom, right next to the nest. It’s a nice size, with its own bathroom, but bare and sterile compared to the rest of the quarters. They promised to take you out for some things to decorate later. Unsure of what else to do, you tried to sleep once more.

You don’t remember your nightmare, but Prompto woke you from it and led you back to the nest, where he curled up next to you to sleep for the night. Surrounded by the pack’s scents, you fell into a dreamless sleep. You’re not sure how he knew to come wake you, but you’re grateful anyway.

Ignis turns to smile at you when you pause by the dining room table.

“Good morning, darling. Did the nest help you sleep last night?”

You clutch Noctis’ hoodie tighter. Prompto had given you a tank top and pair of sweatpants to wear to bed last night; you still have to roll the waist up a few times and struggle to keep the shirt on your shoulders, and his scent doesn’t engulf you the same way Noctis’ does.

“Yeah, actually. It’s a nice thing to have around.”

“That’s good to hear. I know your current room is terribly bare, but if all goes well today and tomorrow, we may be able to take you out to shop by the end of the week.”

You skip closer to him; he’s currently rummaging through the fridge and grabbing a tall can off of the top shelf.

“Really? What do I need to do?”

Ignis chuckles. “I’ll explain after breakfast. Prompto and Noctis need a few things as well for school before the new semester begins.”

“Where are they?”

“They’re doing morning exercises in the training room with Gladio, although they should be returning soon. It all depends on how cooperative they’re being.”

He uncovers a plate that had been sitting on the stove and hands it to you. “Take a seat, I’ll join you. I kept it simple this morning, just some biscuits and jam, and then sausage if you’re feeling up to it.”

You gasp and hurry over to the table. The biscuits are still warm and fluffy, and there’s two different colored jams for you to try. You dip your finger into each, and then take the purple jam to spread onto your biscuits.

“Humor me, will you, love? Does three meals a day sound like more than usual to you? Or is it startling to have such a variety of things to eat?”

You pause your chewing to stare at him. He’s already so put together with his hair styled up and his suspenders on, you feel a bit trashy in comparison with your unfit clothes. You try to read his polite expression and relaxed posture to no avail.

“Both, I think. This doesn’t feel familiar.” You swallow another bite as he studies you. “But it’s super good.”

“After your medical examination today, we can put together a healthier diet plan for you.”

“Is that where we’re going first?”

“Indeed. We should be leaving as soon as you finish, in fact. I’d hoped the others would return before we leave, Gladio was going to pick up some clothes from his younger sister that should fit you better for now.”

“Can I watch them train sometime? I—” Your head pounds. “Nevermind.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you, but please don’t censor yourself. The first thoughts that come to your mind may very well help us with your lost memory.”

He stands and crosses over to you, running a hand through your hair. After a moment, he bends down to kiss your forehead. You jerk away, staring intently at your biscuits.

He clears his throat. “If you’ve eaten what you can, we should head out for the day.”

You’re still hungry, but your head aches, and your face is way too warm, so you scurry to the kitchen to toss the remaining food. You wish for something to pull your hair back, or clothes that fit better before facing other regal inhabitants like Ignis, but if you need to go right now, you’ll face the embarrassment.

You take a deep breath before facing him again.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

* * *

Ignis is very, very glad that he is the only one with you during your medical examination.

You’re in a hospital gown for the physical, but chose to keep Noctis’ hoodie in your lap. You swing your feet back and forth at the edge of the hospital bed while the doctor goes through the findings of your physical, X-rays, and MRI, along with various other tests.

For the most part, your emotions range from confused, to frightened, to resolute. Picking up your expectations helps Ignis piece together what you’ve gone through, and he knows the rest of his pack aren’t far behind.

You haven’t shown an ounce of confusion since the doctor began speaking. Even during the different exams, you’d been anticipating each step, and only seemed surprised when the doctor finished up and went to a back room to analyze the results.

You’re probably right around Noctis and Prompto’s age, between seventeen and twenty, but the doctor estimates somewhere in the middle. You’re underweight with a handful of vitamin deficiencies; you have strained tendons in your hands and knees; your bullet wound has healed just fine; you’ve probably had about three concussions, and any more could cause severe brain damage, but that has no effect on your memories; you’ve previously had a few broken ribs on your left side that healed improperly; you have fragile bones in your wrists due to old fractures, and your shins both have previously been fractured, which may lead to reoccurring shin splints but aren’t causing any current problems.

Blood tests had been taken as well, but it would be a few days before those results came back.

The doctor, a middle-aged beta woman, is the same one who treats the king and the prince. She watches you carefully as she goes through the list, just as Ignis does, and continues through it all as you nod along.

“Any comments?” She asks with a gentle smile, her pen at her clipboard.

“Nope.” You seem pleased with your answer, and look to Ignis for reassurance. He schools his expression into nonchalance a second too late.

“Sorry,” you add, clutching the hoodie tighter.

He clasps his hands behind his back. “Not a problem, darling. This is just for your physical health, after all.”

You’re better at reading the room than he thought; he needs to be more put together for you. You have Prompto’s bubbly companionship, and Noctis’ unwavering protectiveness—you need a steady, calming presence during this confusion. Gladio could be that as well, he’s trained himself to hold down his alpha tendencies, but he is determined to keep you at arm’s length until you’re guaranteed to be safe around the prince.

Ignis prides himself on being able to see through deceit, and he’s confident in his abilities to keep his guard up, while also helping someone in need. Gladio’s strategy will blow up in his face eventually, but Ignis will remain silent until then. Even so, Gladio and Noctis are already having a difficult time staying calm anytime they learn another fact of your past. The imprint is affecting his Highness more than he’ll admit, and your genuine reactions catch Gladio off guard almost every time.

Yesterday, the other side of the glass was not a pleasant one when you revealed that you were waiting for the Marshal to bring out a water bucket to torture answers out of you. Ignis eventually had to snap at his alphas to pull their scents back—they were suffocating the room.

Then you collapsed into hysteria, and Noctis warped out of the room before you hit the ground.

“As for your hormone levels, you do seem to have an imprint bond with his Highness, which is a bit like an immature pack bond. I can send over some articles to Ignis on ways to keep an eye on it. It can be a tricky situation. Most alphas and omegas mate fairly quickly after developing an imprint, but with royalty it’s not that simple.”

You wrinkle your nose. “How’d this happen? I don’t get it.”

“Well, a few ways. If you hadn’t been in contact with others for quite some time, omegas can become attached to the first alpha that makes them feel truly safe by offering kindness. Are you able to remember what you were thinking when you saw the prince?”

“He was one of the first humans I’d seen in a while. He smelled really good, and that was annoying. I thought I was getting taken back.”

“Is that all? He didn’t seem familiar? Sometimes if it’s an alpha you once knew, that can also help.”

“I thought he was pretty.”

You blush, and untuck your hair from behind your ear to block your face. Ignis rubs a hand over his mouth to hide his smile.

“Y/N is also a predestined packmate of ours,” he adds. The doctor nods and scribbles down some notes.

“I’m a what?”

Ignis is floored at your dumbstruck expression.

No wonder you’ve been so confused at their kindness. And what a failure he’s been—of course you’ve never heard of this phenomenon if you haven’t even _nested_ before. His heart broke a bit then just as it does now, but mistakes are a chance to learn. Hopefully his forwardness hasn’t caused you to be wary around him.

He must be better than this.

“Predestined mates are a romantic ideal for many,” the doctor says. “Lots of people don’t believe in it until it happens to them. It’s when an individual’s scent calls out to another, before any introductions are even made. And your scents will begin to mingle and fit together as a pack, even with limited physical contact.”

You set Noctis’ hoodie to the side. “Well, I slept in a nest last night with Prompto. And this pack is super touchy. It must be the stupid imprint thing, that’s all.”

Oh, it’s a very good thing Ignis is the only one here. He can imagine how much his pack’s scent would sour at your displeasure with this revelation.

The doctor raises an eyebrow. “Do you have concerns?”

“I don’t wanna be so reliant on them. And they shouldn’t be stuck with me cause of a scent, that’s stupid.”

“I understand how that can be frustrating, Miss Y/N.”

“If you’d like,” Ignis interrupts, “we could all have a chat tonight, to discuss more about how we’re moving forward. It was never our intention to make you uncomfortable.”

You frown at him, but stay silent.

“Before you leave, I did have something about your amnesia,” the doctor continues. “There is no physical brain trauma that I can see, but there are traces of magic. Traces that are similar to the Starscourge. Not an infection, just a similar concentration in your frontal lobe. My theory is that it’s some type of precaution the Empire may have activated after you disappeared and you were unable to be located.”

You nod. The doctor stares.

“Forgive me, Y/N, but you don’t look at all surprised,” Ignis says.

“Oh, sorry. Is it surprising?” You ask. “The Empire does all kinds of stuff with the Scourge.”

“Stuff with the Scourge? Please, enlighten us.”

You tense and squeeze your eyes shut. “Yeah, like with daemons and…I don’t know.”

He almost reaches for you, but fiddles with his gloves instead. “My apologies. Please, don’t strain yourself.”

“I believe that’s enough for today,” the doctor says. “I’d like to have another check-up after you’ve settled in some more to discuss your amnesia further, as well as other things.”

You go behind the curtain to change back into your—Prompto’s—clothes, and the doctor once again tells Ignis of the resources she’ll send him.

The two of you leave in silence, and Ignis doesn’t find his words until you’re in the elevator, almost back to your quarters.

“Miss Y/N, I apologize for any actions that may have made you uncomfortable. I hadn’t realized you were also unaware of the predestined bond. Our pack means well, but they can be a bit overwhelming. Please, try to think of me as a third-party in that way. I’ve had to mediate Gladio and his Highness plenty, and I will be glad to step in any time you may need me, all personal feelings aside.”

You start to speak, only to bite your lip and stare at the ground.

“You can also ask me anything,” he adds.

The elevator doors open on your floor. Ignis nods to the glaives that are on-guard this afternoon. Ulric is one of them; Ignis catches his gaze when he looks at you for a moment too long, but leads you into the room without commenting.

There’s a bit of commotion going on inside.

Ignis shuts the door and slips off his shoes. “Everything all right in here?”

You kick off your torn flats, the things are barely more than slippers.

The yelling pauses. Noctis and Prompto come darting around the corner, Gladio trailing behind. They’re all freshly showered, their pack scent especially strong. Gladio looks Ignis up and down and winks.

“Hey, guys! How was it?” Prompto greets.

You step in front of Ignis before he can answer. “Did all of you know about this destiny mating stuff?”

Prompto grimaces. Noctis and Gladio keep their expressions blank. Ignis would be proud of their neutrality in any other situation.

Noctis steps forward. “If you’re uncomfortable here—”

“I’m not _uncomfortable_.”

“…Okay.”

“I’m annoyed.”

“Okay?”

“I feel safe here, I don’t get it but I do—it’s awful. What if you were the bad guys? Or, what if I’m the bad guy?”

Your scent sours and stretches through the room; Ignis watches his pack tense and fight the urge to comfort and send their own pheromones to calm you. He hovers closer to you as he senses your resolve cracking.

“The scientist said that my memory loss might be because of the Scourge, which makes sense in my head, cause the Empire messes with that stuff all the time, but…I guess you don’t here. And I’m just here, in the prince’s quarters, because I smell right? That’s so stupid.”

You seem to suddenly remember you’re still clutching Noctis’ hoodie, and glare at it before tossing it onto the couch.

“You’re not stuck here,” Gladio spits out. “Once we know you’re not a threat, you can leave.” He gestures out the window to the city skyline. Ignis almost interrupts him, but sees you gaze outside wistfully and stops.

“You can leave here, and never have to see us again, even if you just wander the streets of Insomnia for the rest of your life.”

“That’s not what I—”

“If our stupid scents annoy you that much, you’ll be better off out there. We won’t stop you.”

“Gladiolus,” Ignis hisses.

“Knock it off,” Noctis snaps. He and Gladio have a stare-down, until Gladio finally shuts his mouth and crosses his arms.

He marches closer to you. You scowl up at him.

Ignis takes a step back to give you more space, surveying the others. Gladio has a brow quirked, but pulls his scent back, and Prompto is tugging at his bracelet, his gaze not as present as Ignis would’ve expected.

“If you’re here to kill me, you suck,” Noctis continues. “Imperials don’t go for manipulating anyway, they just send out troops and machines, and gun everything down. So, sorry, you’re not a threat. We found you cause you smell like our pack, but if someone needs my help, I’ll put myself out for them. Hopefully, when you get your memory back, we can keep getting to know each other. Having destined mates is…great, honestly. But it’s not the final word.”

Ignis smiles at his prince, along with the rest of his pack, and Noctis ducks his head once he notices.

“So…yeah. If that helps.”

“You’re too nice,” you whisper.

Noctis shrugs. “Maybe.”

You throw your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. Noctis stumbles, and then squeezes you tight. Your scent slowly sweetens back to its flowery state.

Ignis moves over to the others, and Gladio pulls him closer to wrap an arm around his waist. Ignis huffs, trying to stay irritated at his outburst, but lets his alpha kiss at the inside of his wrists.

“Seems like I missed out on the fun,” he murmurs.

Gladio hums and turns to give him a real kiss. “Feelin left out?”

Prompto giggles and gives Ignis his own kiss before bounding over to you and Noctis.

“Hey, Y/N, we picked some stuff up for you,” he says, going up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. Noctis pulls back just a bit. 

“Really? What kind of stuff?” You ask.

“Some little stuff to hold off till we can go shopping.”

“They’re mostly from my baby sister,” Gladio adds. “She’s about your size.”

The two youngest of their pack drag you down the hall to your room.

“How difficult was it to keep Iris from coming to visit?” Ignis asks as they follow.

“I owe her three dinner dates before she has to go back to school.”

“Not so bad.”

In your room, the two of them are showing you a pile of clothes that have been laid out on the bed. Sitting near the pillows as an oversized Moogle plushie.

You haven’t noticed the plushie yet, instead you’re inspecting the different outfits they’ve chosen.

“It’s all so dark,” you say.

Prompto and Noctis share a glance.

“It’s her style,” Prompto answers, worriedly pulling at his own dark clothes. “You don’t like it?”

“We’ll still take you shopping,” Noctis assures you. “But these should fit better at least.”

You pick up a dark red tank top and some black leggings to sniff.

“We can wash them too,” he continues, looking back at Ignis as if to confirm that yes, they can in fact wash these clothes for you.

“No, they’re fine,” you finally answer. “They smell almost like Gladio.”

There’s a pause, and Ignis catches Gladio forcing down a grin. You take the outfit and the new underwear pack they must have grabbed at the store and dart into your bathroom. There seems to be no ill will held after the argument, which he’s grateful for.

However, they still need to have a more in-depth conversation about packs and secondary genders, and soon.

“What’s this stuff on the counter?” You call through the door.

“Some new soaps and shampoo and stuff!” Prompto replies. “We thought you might wanna try them out.”

“…Which ones?”

“Whatever you want,” Noctis says.

No reply.

“The lavender one is pretty nice,” Gladio calls back.

“Okay. I’m gonna shower.”

“We’ll wait in the living room,” Ignis says, and corals the others out of your room.

Ignis closes the door behind them, and Noctis punches Gladio in the arm.

“Don’t make decisions for her,” he mutters.

Gladio tries to smack him back, but the prince darts out of the way. “You two bought a shitload of soaps for her. It’s overwhelming. She needs a little push.”

“It’s a fine line,” Ignis interrupts before Noctis can snap back. “One we’ll have to help each other with, and communicate with her as well.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue. In the living room, Prompto and Noctis start up a game on the TV while Ignis sits on the other end of the couch and opens his laptop to check his emails. Gladio sits next to him, half on his phone and half reading over his shoulder—he hasn’t gotten the chance to bring any of his books over yet.

Almost an hour goes by before you shuffle into the living room.

“What is this?”

Ignis and Gladio turn around to see you; Prompto and Noctis frantically pause their game.

You’re clutching the Moogle plushie to your chest—it’s almost half your size—and a hairbrush in one hand.

“That’s called a Moogle!” Prompto grins.

“It’s Iris’ favorite,” Gladio adds. “But she said you could borrow it.”

You scrunch your face like you’re trying to solve a puzzle.

“Tell her I said thank you. He’s soft.”

You look at the seating arrangements on the black, L-shaped couch. There’s a bit of room in between Prompto and Gladio, or next to Noctis, but you decide on the recliner to the side instead. Ignis gives Noctis and Prompto a look to begin their game again.

You sit crisscross on the chair with the plushie in your lap and start to brush your hair. The lavender soap intertwines nicely with your flowery scent; your face is still pink from the shower and your skin glows more than before. 

Ignis goes back to his reading, making a list of ideas for your diet to help you put on weight. He needs to go grocery shopping later today, as well as add some more things to your assessment packet he’s been putting together.

“Astrals, you’re ripping your fuckin hair out,” Gladio mutters. “C’mere.”

“I know how to brush my own hair.”

Your hairbrush is currently stuck in a knot near your scalp, and you glare at him over the Moogle. Ignis has been trying to ignore it, but it does sound like you’re ripping out your hair by the chunks as you brush it.

“It’s too knotted to do yourself. I used to do Iris’ hair all the time, c’mon.”

You huff and yank the hairbrush out, moving to sit in the space between his legs. Resting your head on top of the plushie, you watch Noctis and Prompto play their game while Gladio sets the brush to the side and gently pulls apart the larger knots with his fingers.

After a few minutes, you try to clear your throat and break into coughs. Gladio pauses, and glances over at Ignis; before either can ask you if you’re all right, you question the other two about the game they’ve been playing.

Their jeering conversation halts. They swarm you like sharks.

“Now you’ve done it,” Gladio chuckles, finally picking up the brush to start on your ends.

Ignis watches as you listen intently to their description of the game’s premise and mechanics, waiting for them to go to a new file and hand the controller over. The pack’s scent is thicker and richer now that all of you are sitting so close together, and as he attempts to return his grocery list, he smiles at the thought of more moments like these.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post two chapters at once, but the next one is taking longer than I'd hoped so hopefully this is all right for now <3


	5. hold me tight or don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got some circa-2008 ff.net shoppin to do friends it's 3am my time let's fuckin party

Prompto knocks on your door and calls out, “Ready to go?”

You set your hairbrush down on the bathroom counter and hurry over to the door. He grins when you exit.

“Cute,” he says, looking your outfit up and down.

You’re in one of Iris’ gray v-neck shirts and a dark pair of jeans. You don’t have to roll them up, but the studded belt is on its tightest ring and they still don’t fit quite right.

“Uh, you too?”

He laughs and throws an arm around your shoulders to lead you outside.

“Iggy is still finishing up some stuff in his office, but Noct said they’re in a sitting room nearby that we can wait with them in.”

“Him and Gladio are already done visiting their parents?” You ask. You twirl the ends of your hair and sling an arm around his waist as you walk. Your hair is so light and soft after washing it and having Gladio brush it, you’re unreasonably excited every time you play with it.

“Yeah, it was just breakfast. The King and his Shield have pretty tight schedules, you know?”

“Right.”

That’s something you hadn’t pieced together until you came across it in the history assessment from earlier this week; Gladio is an Amicitia, part of the line of Shields sworn to protect the Lucian kings.

You’re still not convinced he can even stand you.

After heading down the elevator and around a few turns, you begin to hear a piano’s soft melody flowing down the hall. Prompto’s been muttering directions under his breath since you stepped off the elevator, and once you hear the music he lets out on “aha!” and quickens his pace.

The sitting room they’re occupying has a large, open entranceway and luxurious dark furniture scattered throughout. Gladio is leaning on the wall by the window, listening peacefully to Noctis at the piano. He smiles at the two of you when you enter, but no one says a greeting, not wanting to interrupt the song.

This close, the melody hits you with a pang in your chest. It’s so achingly familiar—tension builds behind your eyes.

You tiptoe over to the bench and take a seat next to him. His eyes are shut as he plays, but he must’ve sensed your arrival. He pauses for a moment as the phrase shifts, and you take that opportunity to place your fingers to the keys and fumble along the next few chords.

Noctis stops. Your hands move much slower and rustier than his smooth transitions. After a few measures, you fade out.

“I don’t remember any more,” you whisper. You don’t want to think too hard to call back the rest of the song, lest the moment be broken by a migraine.

He starts up again at half-speed, playing the chords an octave below, and you smile at him before following along.

Your fingerings aren’t nearly as precise, and you have to redo them occasionally, but he always waits until you’ve righted yourself before moving on.

As you two finish the song, he releases the keys and grins. You cover your mouth with trembling hands and find yourself unable to look away from the piano keys.

“Y/N?” Noctis rests a hand on your arm, brows furrowed.

“That song makes me so sad,” you answer. “But it’s so pretty.”

Prompto throws his arms around your shoulders to hug you from behind.

“Y/N! That was so good,” he gushes. You stutter and try to shake him off.

“I suppose I should’ve added a music section to your assessment,” Ignis adds.

You jump at his voice. He’s standing with Gladio by the window and you haven’t even noticed.

“I mean, I was mostly following along,” you say. “I like the piano, though.”

Noctis takes your hand in his. “Me too.”

Gladio comes over to ruffle your hair. You smack him away.

“We ready to go?”

You leap up from the bench as Noctis pulls the cover down.

“Been ready.”

“We’ll have to go to the private sector,” Ignis says as he leads you all out. “And one of us, excluding Noctis, has to be with you at all times.”

“Whatever,” Noctis groans.

You shrug. “Seems fair, I guess.”

He’s pouting, and you hold back a sigh. You’re not gonna stand any negativity on this trip, even if it’s just to the store. You link your arm with his and nudge his side.

“It’s a fair rule. I bet I could take you.”

He snorts. “Sure. I’ll watch my back.”

“You better.”

Gladio mutters something to Prompto, and he breaks out into giggles.

You take an elevator down to an underground parking garage, lined up and down with more cars than you’ve ever imagined. They’re different colors and sizes, much more vibrant than any of the machinery in the Empire.

With all of these choices, they still head to the same dark convertible they were in when you first met them outside the city.

You sit in the middle this time, and instantly realize why they’d been so insistent that you _not_ sit in the middle on the way here.

With the top up, the alphas’ scents are almost giving you a sensory overload. Prompto doesn’t seem bothered when you glance at him in the passenger seat, fiddling with the radio, so you lean back and try to keep your breathing even. Noctis holds your hand and plays on his phone with the other. Gladio is very pointedly not touching you, but his legs are crossed towards you, just a hair’s space away, and you’re not sure that’s any better.

Despite their proximity making your heart race, it’s also like a protective blanket.

The shopping center you’re going to isn’t too far, the tall structure only slightly less imposing than the ones you left behind. Life streams in and out of the building and garages—families, single workers, and couples alike. You almost trip scrambling out of the car; Noctis steadies you with a chuckle.

He pulls his cap lower on his face and shoves his hands in his pockets instead of holding you. You try to hide your disappointment, and instead gawk at the entrance of the building.

“It’s not too crowded,” Gladio remarks.

You blink, trying to imagine what crowded looks like.

Ignis leads you and the pack inside. You walk next to him, almost close enough to touch, but he doesn’t reach out to guide you like usual.

That’s fine. You shouldn’t be so reliant on them already, that’s ridiculous.

Prompto pulls you closer with a grin, and you latch onto him too quickly, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You wanna go clothes shopping first, yeah?”

“Uh, sure. Whatever you guys think. There’s…” You look around at the stories and stories of stores above you. “…a lot here.”

“Yeah, but most of this stuff is junk. I know the perfect store, don’t you worry.”

The clothing shop Prompto has in mind is huge.

There’s an escalator in the middle, and the racks of clothes on the walls and in the aisles stretch out further than you can see. You stop dead in the middle of the entrance, and Prompto has to lead you out of the way of other shoppers.

“How do you find anything here?” You ask.

“This place might be a little much, sunshine,” Gladio agrees.

Prompto’s posture droops. Noctis is distracted by a jacket on the rack closest to them.

Ignis adds, “Perhaps one of the smaller, more independent stores would be better—”

“No, it’s fine,” you groan. You turn back to Prompto. “Where to?”

“Up the escalators, this place has the best omega section. The more focused stores are a little too trendy, but you’ll find stuff here, I promise.”

You nod along as he chatters, grateful for his upbeat attitude. The rest of the boys trail behind, falling into their own conversation.

The small crowd upstairs is mostly omegas, and the realization relaxes you. You don’t think you’ve ever been around so many of your own secondary gender; your chest is full and you smile as you gaze around this area.

“Anything in the middle, or on the right is your kinda stuff. The other stuff is for male omegas.” Prompto beams at you. “Pretty nice, huh?”

“I’m still not sure where to start.”

“I can help you pick some stuff out, if you want. We can get a handful of outfits, like some tops, jeans, shorts, and some skirts and sundresses if you want.”

“You could pick out one outfit to start, and try it on in the dressing rooms to get your sizing, and then it may make it easier to pick out more,” Ignis suggests.

You nod. “Should I like, match your theme?”

“…What?” Noctis says.

“You guys have like a, look.” You make a wide gesture at their dark outfits. “If it’s just your thing, that’s fine, I just thought…I don’t know.”

“That sounds great!” Prompto pulls you deeper into the section on the right. “Let’s pick some stuff out.”

Gladio and Noctis hover nearby while Prompto and Ignis help you search through the racks and racks of clothes. They try for some of the smallest sizes, and after a while you finally have an outfit put together.

Once Prompto shows you the dressing rooms, you let your nerves take over. The darker look isn’t your favorite, but it reminds you so much of the pack that you grin as you slip it on. The size Ignis picks out fits perfect. You look at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room, holding back giggles at how much you look like, well, a person rather than a prisoner, like you did in the drab gray clothes from the Empire.

“Y/N?” Prompto knocks on the door. “I forgot to ask, can we see it when you’re dressed? You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, but—”

You throw the door open, and he squeals.

“It’s so cute, holy shit, they’re gonna lose it. How does it feel?”

You take a deep breath. “Like it fits. It’s really nice.”

He pulls your hair out of the collar of the shirt, instructs you to tuck the shirt into the jeans, and then tugs you to the entrance of the dressing room area.

Prompto sings some sort of jingle when you’re in the eyesight of the pack which draws _way_ too much attention. You avoid eye contact.

“How does it fit, love?” Ignis asks.

“Really good. You were spot on.”

“C’mon, do a twirl,” Gladio teases. “Show it off.”

Your wrinkle your nose. Prompto laughs and raises one of your hands to spin you around.

Your face must be so red.

Gladio’s grin grows. “Super nice.”

Noctis just stares from his seat.

“Whatcha think, Noct? Cute, huh?” Prompto says.

“Yeah, it’s great. Love it,” he finally says. “You like it, Y/N?”

You nod, and Prompto follows you back to your dressing room.

“Now we can pick out some other stuff, too.”

You pause in the doorway and cross your arms, unable to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“What do you—”

“You don’t have to constantly compliment me just cause we’re predestined. Stop parading me around, okay?”

“Oh, Y/N, no—we—” He sighs before starting over. “We wanted to see your outfit cause we’re excited for you. I don’t think any of us say things we don’t mean. It’s easy for us to pick out each other’s lies because of the pack bond, but…”

Your heart aches. “Yeah. I get it.”

“If any of them are ever pulling out bullshit, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He boops your nose. “Go get changed. We’ll wait for you.”

“Oh, I can’t stay in this?”

“You wanna?”

“If I have to wait, it’s fine.”

“One sec.”

He darts back to the others while you wait awkwardly in your open dressing room. Despite being flustered at their teasing, you do a few twirls of your own in the mirrors. You’re in a pair of dark, ripped jeans (the rips are for fashion, Prom assured you), a dark blue v neck, and a cropped leather jacket.

Prompto returns and fusses over you to grab the tags off of the items, and you grab your borrowed clothes in your arms and try to follow.

Ignis takes the tags and goes off somewhere to pay for them, telling you to go ahead and continue shopping.

Prompto starts off, showing you some styles, and eventually Gladio catches on to what you’re choosing and grabs some choices as well. You’re content with simply vetoing or agreeing to the outfits they find.

During this, Noctis takes your hand.

“You do look really nice,” he murmurs.

You watch Prompto and Gladio put together another outfit and shrug. “You don’t have to say that cause they’re saying it.”

“Don’t do that. I mean it.”

Ignis returns upstairs, and Noctis waves him over. You spot the display in that direction and gasp, darting over to it.

It’s not exactly like the sundresses Prompto’s been picking out for you. It’s a formal, pure white dress, with long sleeves and a lacey, floral top layer. The bottom of the dress hits mid-thigh on the posed mannequin.

“I see something has truly caught your eye,” Ignis says.

“You want it?” Noctis asks, looking back for Prompto and Gladio.

The longer you look at it, the more unsure you are.

Prompto ooo’s as he and Gladio arrive.

“I don’t know when I would wear this,” you admit, taking a step back.

“On a date,” Prompto suggests.

“With who?”

“…us?”

“You guys don’t have to take me on a date just cause I want a dress.”

“We’re already gonna take you on a date,” Noctis blurts out. “And, uh, now you have a dress for it.”

“Yeah!”

Your palms are sweating. You almost slip your hand away as you catch a blush creeping up his neck. Instead, you smile. 

Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose, and Gladio clears his throat.

“So, we gettin it, kid?”

“Yes?”

Prompto whoops and scurries off to find it in your size. Once he returns, Ignis decides that there’s enough outfits for you to choose from, and it’s time to try them on.

“All of them?” You squeak, looking at the collection.

“Yup,” Prompto answers. “Cause we need to see how cute they look, like, ASAP. And, omegas have really sensitive skin. Most clothing specifically for us is pretty good, but you never know when something might irritate you, so it’s better to know sooner than later.”

“I hope this doesn’t overwhelm you, Miss Y/N,” Ignis says. “Honestly, this isn’t a ridiculous amount of clothing, especially considering you’re starting from the ground up.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Gladio says. “His damn wardrobe takes up almost half our closet.”

“Him and Prom,” Noctis adds, rolling his eyes.

“Okay, big guy, you own a single shirt. You don’t need space,” Prompto argues.

They bicker and tease each other on your way back to dressing room, and Prompto helps you hang everything up before waiting with the rest of the pack.

You really don’t want to walk out in every outfit, and he pouts in response but makes you promise to show the white dress, at least.

By the time you get to it, you’re giddy with the excitement to have so many things to wear. The dress fits a bit looser than it looks on the display, but you are underweight, after all. You’ll have to wait to wear it anywhere.

You step out slowly, peeking around the corner to make sure the boys are still there. Prompto and Noctis are on the chairs, heads ducked close together as they play on their phones, and Ignis and Gladio are standing next to them in conversation.

You’re unsure of how to get their attention, so you just say, “It’s a little loose.”

They snap their gazes to you, and their excitement makes you blush again.

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Ignis says.

Prompto jumps up. “Spin, spin!”

He grabs your hand to twirl you, and you giggle despite the stares from onlookers.

You pause when you notice Noctis’ frown.

“You don’t like it, Noctis?”

He shakes his head. “What? No, it’s perfect, sorry.”

Gladio yanks him up from his seat. “You sleepin on us, princess?”

He bats him away in answer.

“Anything you didn’t like, Y/N?” Prompto asks.

“Actually, the longer skirts. I thought they looked weird on me.”

“It’s probably your short legs.”

He laughs when you shove him before going to change back into your first outfit.

As you change, you dub it the pack outfit in your head. Even if you’re not technically pack.

And if you didn’t find answers about your past, you never will be.

After you took the assessment earlier in the week, Ignis went through it and discussed it with you and the others. The test had been formatted into five sections: reading, math, science, history, and a smaller one for etiquette. Each of the scholarly ones went up from the basics into high-school level, so if a section became too difficult, you would just move on.

Reading was great, and etiquette was almost top-notch.

You could teach his Highness, Ignis had said. Noctis scoffed in response.

Math was fine, you ended around basic algebra and geometry. You have basic history of the world, but for specific countries, your knowledge mostly comes from Niflheim, Tenebrae, and Accordo. But your knowledge of anything historical from the past ten to twelve years is almost non-existent.

You aren’t a complete idiot, thankfully. Ignis concluded that you’re from either Niflheim or Tenebrae. Adding onto the assumption that you’ve been isolated since you were about ten, that’s usually when secondary genders present. Considering you lack knowledge on everything except the very basics, you had either just presented before being locked away, or even afterwards.

And if you’re going to be living with an established pack, you should probably know some more things, he’d said.

The conversation derailed around there. Prompto tried to tell about how being a pack makes them attuned to each other’s feelings and health; Gladio asked if you knew what sex was, and in response to his dumb grin you threw the Moogle plushie at his face.

Ignis got sucked into some argument with Gladio and Prompto about what’s appropriate, and Noctis took that chance to carefully explain how being a prince affected him choosing his pack.

Ignis is Noctis’ oldest companion, has been trained to be his Advisor since they were children, and is a certified Crownsguard member. Gladio is his Shield, trained to be by his protector since he could walk. It wasn’t too difficult for them to be allowed to become a pack right when he turned sixteen.

Prompto is an orphan that grew up in Lucis who became Noctis’ best friend in high school, and was sworn into his Crownsguard junior year. Even though they were certain they were predestined, they couldn’t mate until right after high school.

Pack members for royalty must have a background check and join some type of sworn duty to the crown before they can begin the vetting process through the Council and the King.

You currently have, well, none of those things.

Which is fine, you barely know them anyway, and you could still be part of a plot to destroy to crown, so you shouldn’t be thinking so hard about it.

It’s been a week. You need at least a year before even thinking about joining their pack, you tell yourself. If you even have a memory then.

You collect the clothes as best you can and make your way out to the boys so they can help you carry everything. Prompto distracts you at the check-out counter just long enough for you to realize you hadn’t seen how much everything costs while Noctis paid.

You pester him for a budget or some type of price range for anything else you need to buy; he sighs and doesn’t respond.

Prompto hooks an arm around your shoulders as you walk to get shoes.

“Listen, I hate spending money too, I’ll make sure we’re not getting anything crazy.”

“You need this stuff,” Noctis mutters. “It’s not even a gift, it’s just necessities.”

You open your mouth to argue. He cuts you off.

“I’m the prince. I have so much money.”

You can’t exactly argue with that, so you try to trust their judgment and avoid looking at price tags.

Shoe shopping isn’t nearly as overwhelming. You still end up with a stupid amount, though, because Prompto and Ignis are very insistent that you can’t match a new pair of flats with _everything_. Gladio even helps you look for a good pair of sneakers to use for training, once you’re cleared by the doctor.

You leave the store wearing a pair of black, lace-up boots, and snatch your old flats out of Prompto’s hands to toss them in the trash. They cheer as you walk back to them, and you call them ridiculous but beam the whole way to the food court.

* * *

Noctis is worried the moment Ignis returns from his phone call.

You’re all in a home goods store now, and Prompto is helping you pick out some house plants for your room. It seems like an odd choice to him, but Prompto talks about taking care of something to remind you to take care of yourself, and he’s not about to argue.

His arms are tired from carrying the clothes and shoes, and he’s been bored for a while, honestly. You’re so focused on picking things out for your room, and you’re glowing in an outfit you picked out for yourself, so he can’t bring himself to complain. 

He doesn’t mention how much he loves that the first outfit you picked out was something to match the pack. When you were changing, Prom told them that the compliments were overwhelming you to the point of sounding insincere. Noctis and Gladio just shared a _look_ while watching you and Prom shop together, instead.

And holding the bags makes it easier to stop himself from holding you in public. Paparazzi technically isn’t allowed in this sector, but there’s plenty of nobility here that like to talk.

“What’s up, Specs?” He asks.

“I’m afraid we need to return to the Citadel as soon as possible.”

“Is dad—”

“Perfectly fine. I’ll explain when we get home, Highness.”

Gladio shifts a bit closer to him as Ignis calls you and Prompto over.

“Is everything all right?” You ask.

“We gotta head back,” Gladio says.

“What? Already?” Prompto whines, glancing between them.

“Oh, sorry,” you add. “I didn’t mean to take so long.”

“We were supposed to stay longer,” Noctis grumbles. There are plenty of other things he wants to grab for you, like a phone, and maybe a handheld for games—you seem to like the RPG him and Prompto have been playing.

Although, with how distressed you were once you realized how much money he’s spending, it might be better to surprise you with those things.

Prom buys the couple of plants you two picked out before he even realizes. He looks to Ignis in exasperation, but he just smiles and shrugs.

He’s tense the whole drive back, though, and won’t bring up the phone call until they’re alone in their rooms.

The bags are tossed on the couch, and Gladio and Prom are holding your plants. Everyone hovers in the living room. Ignis sighs and crosses his arms.

“Tenebrae has taken up arms against the Empire.”

“What?” Noctis asks. “Why now? After all this time?”

“I have absolutely no idea, Highness. They’re trying to gather as much intel as they can, but His Majesty requested that we return while the news spreads.”

Noctis is still waiting for Luna to write back in their notebook, and when she does, he’s going to have a lot of questions.

“They’re fighting?” You murmur.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Prom says.

You wrap your arms around your waist and scrunch your face like a migraine is starting. Their pack bond pulses with worry as they share glances.

Prom nudges you in the side. “We’re just sitting and waiting right now. Let’s go find a good place for all these plants.”

You take a shuddering breath and nod, leading Prom and Gladio to your room.

Once you’re all occupied, Noctis turns on the TV.

It’s already breaking news. The reporters don’t seem to know much more, but Noct wants to gauge the public’s feelings on it.

“…this sudden spark is led by none other than former Prince Ravus Nox Fleuret…”

Noct scowls. Strange, considering how quickly Ravus joined the ranks of the Empire’s military after half his family was killed by them.

“…although, the involvement of former Princess Lunafreya remains to be seen.”

A picture of Luna, much older than he’d last seen her, flashes on the screen.

Noct’s heart drops to his stomach.

He thinks back to how you looked in that pure white dress. Radiant, but familiar.

Ignis grabs the remote and flicks the TV off.

“Specs—”

“I think, Noct, that this is something we should keep to ourselves.”

“But you see it too?”

“It would be terrible to speak false assumptions of this level.” He holds Noctis by the shoulders. “And it would be crushing to get her hopes up and fail her.”

His steady touch is the only thing keeping Noctis in check. He clenches his fists.

“What’s your plan?”

“I’m looking into everything as best I can. I will keep you updated, but there are only so many leads to follow. Especially now, with a war igniting.”

The threat of war has been crackling at his heels since he was a child, and now—

“Dad is so sick.”

Ignis pulls him close. Noct buries his face in his chest, breathing in his scent. Ignis strokes his hair and plants a kiss at the crown of his head, whispering,

“We will always be at your side.”


	6. caught in the middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I've never watched Kingsglaive. The only things I know about the trio are from Twitter and this dumb website. Take that as you will

The first time you’re alone in the chambers, truly alone, the emptiness swallows you; your chest is hollow, and the air—devoid of the fresh scents of the pack—does nothing to fill you.

It’s ridiculous. You burn from the inside out at your inability to hold yourself together the first time you’re left to your own devices.

It’s not for good reason, and not even for too long. It’s been almost a month since you’ve arrived in Insomnia. Prom and Noctis are at their college classes for the day, Gladio is training, and Ignis has meetings to attend. Ignis has been doing a lot of his paperwork here in the living room, and offered to continue if you wanted the company, but you rolled your eyes and assured him you’d be fine.

Noctis got you a phone and showed you how to use it; it’s registered through the crown, just like all of theirs, but you can really do whatever you want on it, and use it to talk to them whenever you get bored.

You shouldn’t have to talk to them already, it’s barely noon. How pathetic you would seem, texting them hours after they all left, interrupting their busy days with your useless interactions.

You try to play the game you’ve been working through with Noctis and Prom, but find it unbearable in the silence—their cheers and instructions and laughter is what fueled you to continue, apparently.

You should eat because Ignis said he’d prepared something for you for lunch, but your stomach is so heavy.

Gladio set up a bookshelf by the large window; he said you’re welcome to anything on it, after he’d caught you staring at the rows and rows of titles. Searching through them for something to pique your interest sounds like a chore now.

You end up in the nest. You curl into a ball, shaking, unsure of how long you’re there. The pack’s scent in this little room helps clear your mind, until you slip your journal out from underneath one of the pillows.

Ignis picked it up for you a few weeks ago, after a conversation with your doctor. She’d called after your blood tests arrived. There was a concerning amount of sedatives and heat blockers found in it, and she’d voiced concerns about the withdrawals you’ll have. She recommended you see a psychiatrist as well.

How am I supposed to talk to someone with the Scourge in my head? You’d replied, and instead Ignis had brought you a blue and white journal, for you to clear your head.

It would be good to keep track of your moods, for yourself, and if you decide to talk to someone about your past, he’d explained.

You agreed to share it if the time came, when he first brought it up, but now that you’ve begun using it, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to keep your word.

You date the page, like usual, and write out your stream of consciousness.

_It’s so cold. Why was it always so cold?_

You’re warm now in the nest, coated with the scents of the pack, but your mind is overloading with the empty chill that begins before your migraines.

_I don’t want to be alone anymore. This loneliness is so cold._

_~~They’re so warm. I miss them.~~ _

_Get yourself together. Useless girl._

You bite your lip as a migraine ebbs forward in your skull.

Those words are so familiar. You try to catch the memory as the words pound along with your headache.

Useless girl.

You pull a blanket over your head, as if the words are coming from the outside, and curl up tighter, until you’re swept away into a restless sleep.

You wake up to the voices right outside your nest.

“It’s not good for her to constantly be in the nest, right?” Noctis hisses. “She feels abandoned,”

Gladio speaks over Prompto’s reply. “She needs to see a professional. We’re her predestined, not therapists.”

“I’ve already spoken to her about it,” Ignis sighs. “We can’t force her to speak to anyone.”

“She doesn’t have memories, what are they gonna do?” Noctis says.

“I’m sure there’s specialists who deal with situations like this, princess.”

“Dudes, it’s only been one day,” Prompto adds. “Give her a chance.”

You bury your face in the pillows and hold back a scream as their argument continues to snowball, as they make assumptions about you, and make decisions before even speaking to you.

Idiots. Even if they’re mostly right, it’s only because of the stupid predestined bond. They don’t know you yet.

You don’t know yourself, yet.

You rub your face and try to hold back your own scent the best you can while you stand and stretch.

The boys are still arguing.

You throw the door open with a yawn.

They freeze and look you up-and-down.

“Oh, sorry, you guys are already back?” You mumble. “It was so quiet without you, I guess I just fell asleep.”

You’re not sure if Noctis can tell when you’re lying, so you try to stay vague. His expression is still tight with worry, even as the others relax; guilt makes your hands shake.

“We were all meeting up when Prom and I got out of class,” Noctis says. “We tried texting you.”

You shrug and move past them into the living room, where your phone is still sitting on the coffee table.

“I must’ve left it here when I was gaming. Sorry,” you answer. Your voice is smaller than you want it to be.

Prompto throws himself onto the couch with a smile to break the tension. “How far did you get?”

You follow him to the couch and sit with your legs curled to your chest. You wish you’d brought something from the nest to hold—you feel twitchy and restless, even after napping in the nest.

“Not very,” you answer. “I got stuck pretty quick without my talking walkthroughs next to me.”

Prom laughs and nudges you before grabbing the controller to boot it up. You’re waiting for him to throw an arm around you, or for Noctis to sit on your other side and lean close, but it doesn’t happen.

Noctis sits next to Prom, his expression distant. Ignis wanders off to the kitchen, and Gladio collapses in the armchair rather than the couch.

That’s fine, you don’t need their coddling. You’re not their pack.

“Y/N, have you eaten today?” Ignis asks, slowly.

“Oh, I had some of the breakfast you left out,” you reply, avoiding his gaze. “I wasn’t very hungry.”

“You gotta eat, pipsqueak,” Gladio says. “I’m not takin you training till you get healthy.”

“It’s still new for you, I’m sure,” Ignis adds. “But it will be easier to remember if you’re staying on schedule.”

You straighten up. “Oh, you’re right. Sorry.”

“It’s quite all right. I was about to start dinner now.”

Gladio hops up from the chair. “I’ll help ya, Iggy.”

“Noct, will you come lend a hand as well?” Ignis asks.

He doesn’t answer. You glance over at him, but he’s staring at the ground. Ignis walks over to him.

“Highness?”

Noctis blinks up at the hand Ignis is offering him. He takes it, and they rejoin Gladio in the kitchen.

You can’t have another day like this. If you get lost in your head while the boys are gone, you’ll never get stronger. You’re away from the Empire, but you’re barely existing as you are right now.

Useless girl.

You flinch, trying to grasp at the sound of the voice before it slips away again.

Prom hands you the controller. As you take it, he shifts to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you close.

You whine and lean into him, unable to conceal your embarrassment. He makes an answering cooing and kisses your hair, stroking circles on your arm.

Your shaking slowly subsides while you start the mission on the game.

You don’t notice the whispered conversation in the kitchen, or the heartbroken gazes from the alphas as Ignis tries to busy them while you make distressed whines at the smallest hints of affection.

You step out of the quarters right after lunch the next day and glance at the two guards at the door. Clutching Noctis’ old folder to your chest, you stand in front of the one you recognize the most and wave.

“Hello?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Hi.”

“So you _do_ talk!”

He coughs, and the other guard raises and eyebrow.

“Uh, we sure do. We’re not robots.”

You wrinkle your nose at his tone. The woman steps forward.

“Do you need something?”

“Can either of you show me to the piano room?”

“Gonna have to be more specific than that,” the man says.

“I think it’s near Ignis’ office? Um, Noctis’ advisor?”

“We know who Scientia is,” he replies.

You sigh. “Okay, sorry. I’ll find it myself.”

You turn to leave for the elevator. The woman hurries forward to cut you off.

“I apologize for my comrade, Miss…”

“Y/N.”

“Miss Y/N. I think I know what piano room you’re looking for. I can escort you there, or at least, to a piano.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.”

She follows you to the elevator and swipes her card before pressing the button for the correct floor. The other guard is on the phone, and sends a wink as the doors close. The woman rolls her eyes in response.

After the two of you are alone in such a small space, you sniff the air.

“You’re an omega?” You ask.

“…Yes. The name’s Crowe, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”

She smiles in response. You bite your lip, trying to think of a conversation. You should’ve brought your journal, maybe, because all your mood swings from the past few weeks are threatening to come bursting out. Prompto has mentioned how good it is for omegas to have friendships with their secondary gender because of stability or something. You remember Cindy’s offer, but she’s so far away.

Crowe is right here. And you have a feeling she isn’t going to leave you alone, anyway.

“So, if I say something that doesn’t make sense, tell me it doesn’t make sense, please?”

“…That didn’t make sense.”

“Right. Okay. Um, I don’t have my memories. So sometimes if I say things that don’t make sense, but I think it’s right, it might be because of something I don’t remember. And we’re trying to keep track of that.”

She nods slowly. “Why were you surprised that we could talk? We’re part of the Kingsglaive. We have guard rotations for the prince’s quarters while you’re here.”

“I didn’t see a lot of humans where I was. Just Magetik Troopers.”

“In Niflheim?”

You nod. After a silence, she continues.

“That must have been lonely.”

You glance at her expression, expecting the pity you’ve been receiving so far, but there’s none of that. Her face is carefully blank, but she watches like she’s waiting for you to continue.

It all spills out. You tell her everything, probably too much, but she never interrupts; when you exit the elevator you’re certain the whole Citadel can hear you—you shut your mouth, and she takes that opportunity to ask for some clarity on certain subjects.

Your lost memory is because of the Scourge? You’ve never nested before coming here? How often do you nest now? You’re imprinted, or predestined to the royal pack? Both? How close are you to them?

Have you slept with them?

Your face burns, and you quicken your pace. She doesn’t bother hiding her laugh as she catches up to you. When she does, she gently grabs you by the shoulder.

“Is this the piano you wanted?”

She gestures to the room you’ve stopped next to. You grin and dart inside, lifting the cover to set the folder down on the stand. Noctis (or Ignis) went looking for his old sheet music so you could practice piano whenever you liked. You shuffle through the pages for an old warm-up sheet, and find it crumpled up in the back.

Before you start, you glance over at Crowe. She’s standing guard at the entryway.

“You can sit next to me,” you call out. “If you want.”

“Am I allowed?”

You wrinkle your nose. She laughs again and heads over, leaving as much room as she can on the bench.

“Is it cause you’re on guard duty?” You ask, slowly starting up some warm-ups. “Prom said omegas are usually pretty touchy.”

“Yes and yes. But I’m in a pack of my own. And you’re being…courted.”

You snort.

“They might get a little grumpy if they smell another pack on you.”

“Oh, whatever,” you mumble. You put more of your concentration into the piano.

Once you’re satisfied enough with how well you go through the warm-ups, you start shuffling through the pages again for a piece that catches you interest.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You do like His Highness and his pack, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

Her expression is closed-off. She searches your face for a few moments before nodding.

“Just making sure.”

“Of course I like them,” you assure her. You find a piece that’s only two pages long and pull it out.

“They’re wonderful, and comforting, and funny. I just…don’t know how I fit in, really.”

She hums. You play through the song slowly, fumbling a bit, and restarting twice before getting to the end without crashing and burning. After finishing, you lean back with a sigh and flex your hands.

“I don’t believe in any of that destiny shit,” Crowe says. “But I think you can make a place with the prince and his pack, if you really want to.”

Your mouth is too dry for words. She places a warm hand on your shoulder.

“And that’s your decision to make.”

Someone clears their throat from the doorway. Crowe jumps up from the bench, hitting a perfect parade rest.

Gladio is there, his presence filling the whole room. You frown.

“Oh, hi, Gladio,” you say. “What are you doing here?”

“I was comin to meet Iggy for lunch, and we were gonna swing by the room,” he answers. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at Crowe.

“I already ate. And I asked Crowe to show me the piano room.”

He’s steaming, standing there in his workout clothes, and you’re caught between the urge to calm him down and telling him to stick it.

“There’s one closer to our place.”

“She specifically asked for the one by Scientia’s office,” Crowe responds.

Gladio hums and glances back at you. “Bet you didn’t even say hi to him, huh?”

You dig your nails into your thighs; he always knows exactly what to say to make you feel so small.

“He’s working.”

He shrugs. “Don’t forget your phone next time you go somewhere. And stay at your post, Crowe.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before leaving. Crowe moves to stand at the entrance of the room. You stare at the piano keys and blink away the moisture in your eyes so you can continue playing.

All your energy left with Gladio. You don’t want Crowe to be here with you for nothing, so you pick another piece at random and fumble through the first page. You were doing all right before, but now your fingers are trembling as you play the chords. You can barely stay in the right key.

On a particularly gross chord, you sigh and let your hands fall.

Crowe peers at you over her shoulder.

“I can take you back, if you’re tired, Miss Y/N.”

You nod, and pile everything back into the folder. She leads you back in silence. Thankfully, you don’t run into Ignis and Gladio on the way back, and they’re not in the room yet.

Without them, the silence weighs heavy on your shoulders. You toss the folder on the couch and grab your phone from the room. There’s only an old text from Gladio, telling you what you already know.

You could text one of them, for some semblance of company, and say what? Hello? You could tell Noctis about practicing the piano—Gladio probably passed on that information already, though.

And that’s all there is.

Your room is still so bare. The plants in the window and clothes in the closet help, just a little. 

Prompto chatters on about getting you some more belongings whenever he pokes his head in your room, but you don’t see that happening anytime soon. They all have things to do.

You’re shaking—you want to lay in the nest so badly. You think of how worried it made them yesterday and whine. The sound is too loud your empty room.

You’re half-aware of dragging yourself to the nest and collapsing into the burrow you and Prom have made. The shaking subsides, but not the ache. 

You ate today. You talked to someone new. You tried some piano. That’s enough, right?

It has to be.

* * *

Noctis is at a tipping point, greeting it like an old friend, and there’s not much anyone can do or say about it.

The imprint bond sits at the bottom of his ribs, just underneath the pack bond; the ache from it slugs through him like poison.

With imprint bonds, Ignis had explained, the only way to help is to embrace them or cut them off cold.

Noctis is suspended in limbo; he sits with you in the evenings, next to you at dinner, tries to include you in soft conversations, and each day the aching only grows. He doesn’t know how much is from you, and how much is from him, but it doesn’t seem to matter anymore. He can’t even bring himself to reach out across this gaping distance and take your hand most days.

He finally got the chance to write back to Luna, nearly tripping over himself when Umbra padded over to him at his campus. Her response was clearly from an earlier conversation, sent before Tenebrae declared war. He was late to class writing about you, trying to keep things vague—they’re at war, after all, and Umbra is only a Shiba—while also trying let Luna know everything about you.

He writes about the song you played with him at the piano, the way that Prompto makes you laugh, and your favorite pastries that Ignis makes, your sharp determination and your desire to go training with Gladio as soon as possible.

He buys Umbra a hotdog from the cafeteria, feeling a little guilty, and then sent him back on his way…wherever that was.

Now he’s waiting, waiting, waiting.

He waits in a stupid amount of meetings and classes, he watches his father struggle to walk down the stairs with his cane, and he watches as you struggle to leave the nest most days.

It hasn’t been this bad in a very, very long time.

Since he was eight and woke up cold and immobile in a room that contrasted everything he knew as home, from the décor to the servants to the people surrounding his bed.

But those people were the Nox Fleurets, and he learned to love them like another family.

Queen Sylvia nursed him back to health and coddled him like the mother he can’t remember, and Princess Luna read him stories and kept his mind sharp and his heart from being too lonely.

And another princess would play tricks and run giggling around corners, too fast for him to catch, only to be shushed and dragged away by Prince Ravus. He didn’t see much of either of them, but they were part of the routine. They were glimpses of a family he never had.

Queen Sylvia and her youngest child were murdered soon after he returned.

Learning that Ravus joined the Empire’s army, years later, made him burn and weep for them for the first time. If their Prince wouldn’t mourn for them, Noctis would.

He’d thought you’d been doing better, at least for a bit. The song you played together on the piano was one of the Queen Sylvia’s favorites; he happily gave you his old sheet music so you could pick it back up (after Ignis found it buried in their old files).

You seemed much more open once you started playing every day, so he ordered a keyboard for your room. You can practice in your quarters, whenever you want, he’d said.

Now you never leave your room.

For the past week, he’s only seen you at dinner, and sometimes not even then if he has any meetings or training with the Crownsguard.

His training has been cut down significantly due to the rising political turmoil throughout the world, replaced by lots and lots of meetings.

He knows his pack has been worried about him, but he’s still surprised when he somehow gains a day off.

It isn’t supposed to happen, really. In a hazy, half-dream state, he feels Prom shake him just a bit.

“Hey buddy, you’re really pushin it, we gotta go soon.”

The edges of his dream coat his mind; he’s so heavy and—he takes a shuddering breath. He tries to roll over, but Prom has already left.

Gladio brushes some hair from his face. “C’mon, princess. We don’t have the time for this.”

“Just leave him be, for today,” Ignis replies.

Gladio lingers, just for a moment, and then they’re gone, too.

Their stupidly large bed is perfect for the four of them, but engulfing for one of them. The covers around him are cold.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door. 

He groans.

“Noctis? There’s still some breakfast,” you call through the door.

He doesn’t answer immediately, still trying to shake the sleep off of himself. You peek through the door.

“Noctis?”

“…Yeah?”

“We could play some games today, too. Iggy said you’re staying home?”

You haven’t wanted to play anything in at least a week. At the thought, he sits up and starts to climb out of bed.

“Sure, if you—”

You squeak and slam the door closed.

“I’ll wait for you in the kitchen!”

He frowns, and then looks down and remembers that he’s in his boxers. Whoops. He snickers as he throws on some comfortable clothes before leaving his room. 

You’re pulling a plate out of the microwave when he enters the kitchen. You hesitate before handing it to him.

“It was a little cold. I didn’t think to cover it, or anything. I thought when Iggy said you’d be staying home you were just, in your room. Should’ve known you were sleeping.”

He’s caught off guard by your rambling, and flounders for a response.

“Well, sit and eat,” you continue, gesturing to the table.

He complies, silently munching on some hashbrowns. You’re hovering by the table, wringing your hands, and he’s about to ask you to sit when you run back into the kitchen.

You set a glass of water by his plate before finally taking the seat across from him.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, taking a drink.

“Are you feeling sick?”

He shakes his head. “Just exhausted, I guess. I must look pretty bad for Specs to let me stay home.”

“You _look_ fine. I asked how you’re feeling.”

He pauses and sets down his fork. “…It’s just a lot going on right now, cause of the war starting. My dad’s been sick for a while, and he’s already had to deal with a massive war back when he took the throne. I’ve been filling in for him more than usual.”

“Oh.”

You gaze down at your lap, and Noctis regrets bringing up the topic at all, but he didn’t want to beat around the bush when you seem so willing to help.

“Are we going to be able to help them?” You murmur. “The people in Tenebrae?”

“I’m want to. I’m trying. Dad wants to, too, but—it’s hard. Having half our army and our main defenses come from him puts a limit on how much we can do. And most of our government, and some citizens, probably, are too comfortable with how separate we’ve been from the conflicts.”

Through the bond, he feels you tremoring before he smells the worry on your scent. He wishes he had more answers for you, but he’s at the mercy of Ignis and Luna trying to answer his questions, and he can’t cheer you up like Prom does. The only thing he can think to do is hold you close, but with how distant you’ve been, he worries that you’re growing tired of their company.

“If you wanna go back to bed, I can wake you up around lunchtime,” you say.

“I’m not.”

“What?”

“I’m not going back to bed.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“We could watch something. On TV.”

You wrinkle your nose.

“Or, uh, if you wanna stay out here, I can go to my room.”

What is he, twelve? Your expression doesn’t change. His face heats up.

“Okay, sure,” you answer.

“Cool. Uh—” Noct stands and takes his plate to the kitchen. He’s trying to think of shows you might like as you move to the living room. There’s a comedy him and Prom have binged a few times, but he wouldn’t mind watching it again to see your reactions.

You don’t sit next to him on the couch. You’re wrinkling your nose again, and he gazes up at you curiously.

“Hold on.”

You scurry out of the room. Noctis tries to wait patiently as he sets up the TV.

He barely has time to register your return before blankets are thrown over his head.

You groan and mumble things under your breath while you hop over the back of the couch and tuck the blankets around him. The sudden, thick smell of the pack is honestly a bit overwhelming. Then it hits him as you arrange the blankets around him, face scrunched in determination that _oh my gods, she’s trying to take care of me_ and his heart swells in his chest.

Once you’ve stopped fussing, he thanks you as sincerely as he can and smiles when your cheeks turn pink. With how much time you and Prom always spend keeping your nest exactly how you want it, he’s pretty honored that you’ve grabbed some things from it to comfort him.

You’re still keeping a careful distance, but he needs-he _needs_ —

“C’mere,” he whispers, lifting the blankets just a little, preparing himself for backlash after you tucked him in so carefully.

You hesitate for a moment, and then dive into his side, burying your face in his shoulder. He wants to scent you, or even kiss you, but he tucks the rest of the blankets around you as best he can and starts the show.

The knot in his chest is soothed with you snuggled against him. As the episodes play, he takes his chances with wrapping one arm tight around your waist, and gently intertwining his other hand where yours rests on his chest.

You sigh in contentment, and he can feel your every movement when you giggle or snort at the show.

Noctis doesn’t think about school, or the war, or his dad because for right now, this is more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Politics? Actual plot?? Dads???


	7. try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for your kind words so far! It's a bit unexpected and overwhelming, honestly, but I appreciate them so-so much and I'll try to reply once my head isn't empty lul. So sorry! <3

The front door clicks shut behind Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio, feeling like a nail in your coffin.

Prompto puts a hand on your knee. You try to muster up a smile before turning to him where he sits next to you on the couch.

But when he asks, “Do you wanna go in the nest?” You sag with relief and nod.

He takes your hand and pockets his phone before leading you out of the living room. He gently closes the door behind you and the two of you snuggle up in the blankets.

Seeing Noctis so drained last week had crushed you more than you’re willing to admit, and since then you’ve been trying your best to keep your spirits up. You’re no Prompto, but you can try to tease some smiles of out him and engage more with all of them. It’s not their fault you can’t keep your head on straight.

Prom is scrolling through his phone, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You want to scoot up and kiss his forehead like he does for you, but you’re still bustling with restless energy.

“How long do you think it’ll be?” You ask.

He pauses his scrolling. “Um, it’s hard to say. This is the Council’s end-of-the-month session, so there’s a lot of committee stuff they gotta get through before they even open discussion. And anything involving Noct’s personal life always causes a stupid amount of controversy.”

Finding out that Noctis and Ignis had to officially talk to the Council about keeping you under their care is one thing, but finding out that you have no say in the decision or discussion is blood boiling.

“This won’t be like your security briefing with the Marshal,” Ignis explained gently. “We’re bringing all of the paperwork needed to show why it’s best for you to stay here with us, but the final decision will be based on the Council’s personal feelings, no matter how they might argue otherwise.”

You can’t take a test or prove yourself to them, really, and everything that will happen to you after the meeting is entirely based on the opinions of people you’ve never met.

Prom tries to rub some tension out of your back, and you bury your face in his neck.

“I know, it really sucks. Back before I was in the pack, I joined the Crownsguard and became eligible to be part of Noct’s personal guard easy thanks all the training I did with Gladio. But I still had to wait until I was vetted by the Council, and I couldn’t meet them until right before their final vote.”

“You must’ve been a wreck.”

“You betcha. Noct was all like, ‘I’ll mark you even if they say no, what are they gonna do then?’”

You giggle at his impression of Noctis’ low voice.

“Which, I wouldn’t of let him do that, that’s an insane scandal right after high school, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod along.

“Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be okay. They’re not bringing up intention to mate, just keep you under his personal care. Even if most of the Council doesn’t believe in predestined bonds, they gotta believe in imprint bonds. There’s like, chemical evidence or something. Iggy’s got the papers. Laminated copies for all of ’em, I bet.”

You sigh and try to feel as confident as he sounds.

“Oh, perfect,” he says. A song starts playing out his phone, with a smooth, high voice singing over the piano. He grins; your noses almost brush when he turns to you. His moods are infectious; you could soak him in forever. He puts his phone down while the music plays and pulls one of the blankets up around the two of you like a cocoon.

You’re overwhelmed with the need to show him how much his company means to you—ever since he popped up in the wreckage of the shack in the desert, it’s been for your comfort. Not trying to make decisions for you, but picking up on your mood swings and navigating them with you, coasting along for the ride until he coaxes smiles and laughs out of you like a soft breeze blowing away clouds.

You’ve been staring at him, and your face burns when you realize. He’s smiling softly at you, holding you tight—you could count the freckles across his cheeks or his pretty, blonde eyelashes.

You’re tracing his freckles with your fingertips before you can stop yourself, trailing your touch until you run your fingers through his fluffy hair. He hums and hold down a grin; his eyes are sparkling.

“Prom?” You whisper.

“Mhmm?”

You want to ask him, but the words catch in your throat. Your face grows warmer. He saves you from any more embarrassment by cupping your face with his free hand and pulling you in for a kiss.

It’s over too quickly, and your body is left warm and tingly. You lick your lips.

“Is this okay?” You ask.

He blinks and frowns.

“Since you’re in a pack. I don’t know how that works, exactly. Well, I mean—I know how it is with you guys, but—”

He shushes you. “It’s okay. Sorry, I should’ve talked to you first. We don’t really do anything with anyone outside our pack, but some people do. Noct has to get married, eventually, but…that’s it. I know it’s still weird, but you’re our predestined. We wanna be with you. There’s no pressure at all, don’t worry—our priority is making sure you’re safe and you get your memories. Anything else we do is _all_ up to you.”

“You keep saying ‘we,’” you mumble.

“Uh-huh.”

You duck your head to avoid his cheeky grin.

“You haven’t noticed Noct starin’ at you, huh?” He pokes your side, right where it tickles. “Or how Iggy always wanting to stroke your hair, or Gladio lookin’ like he wants to scoop you up—”

You kiss him to shut him up. It’s a little crooked, and he lets out a breathy laugh against your lips before correcting the angle.

You know what you should be doing, but putting it into action is harder than you thought. Prom coaxes you through it, soft and slow, and you melt into him as you follow his lead. He pulls you closer until you’re laying on top of him; you worry for just a moment that you might be crushing him, but he doesn’t break the kiss and he’s comfy to lay on, so you stay put.

He still has one arm wrapped tight around your waist, and his other hand is tangled in your hair, making your braid come loose. Your hands rest on his shoulders—you’re too focused on kissing to think of what to do with them.

Prom is the smallest of the boys, but still dwarfs you quite a bit; if you were underneath him, he’d more than cover you. The thought sends sparks down your stomach and you press just a bit closer. He tugs on your hair; you gasp and he slips his tongue into your open mouth.

The music shifts—drums and an electric guitar and a rough, male voice pour out of Prom’s phone.

You jump back, hovering over him, and he clears his throat before grabbing his phone.

“Oops. Album ended, I guess.”

He pauses the new music. The only sound left in the room is your own labored breathing. Prom seems annoyingly composed.

“I really liked the piano in the other music,” you mumble, now that the mood is gone.

“Yeah? I figured. I could find the sheet music online.”

“Really?”

He grins, and you lay your head on his chest to watch him Moogle one of the songs you’d heard. The music had faded into white noise for the most part, but the first few songs were nice.

“Here’s a good one, I think. Wanna try it out?”

You nod, and the two of you shuffle out from under the blanket ceiling. When you stand, he leans down to give you a chaste kiss. You smile, and he takes your hand before the two of you head to your room, filling the time before the others return.

* * *

“Noctis,” King Regis says. “Would you care for some tea before you go?”

Noct blinks, only half out of his chair. The meeting has been adjourned, finally, but most of the Council is staying to chat with each other. Tea means one-on-one time in his dad’s room.

“Yeah, sure,” he answers. He turns to Ignis and Gladio. “See you guys back at the room, then.”

They bow before they depart, stupidly formal. Noct is still feeling high-strung, and would’ve loved some hugs and maybe a kiss, but this isn’t the place.

Noctis had hoped that after weeks of filling in for his father during meetings, he might have gained a bit more respect from the more upstanding members of the Council.

He keeps a passive expression as he walks alongside his dad, Clarus still trailing behind. He can feel the stares and whispers as they leave, but things are official, now, and anything else they have to say outside the meeting means nothing to him.

It went well, for the most part.

Ignis had reassured him this morning that they have all the necessary paperwork to prevent this from becoming a huge scandal, and prevent the Council members from throwing too much of a fit. The only thing the members argued about was based on their own feelings and prejudices, which Noctis is slowly getting better at picking up on, and Ignis can sniff out like a bloodhound.

Noct had told his dad earlier that they were going to discuss it at this week’s session, and he hadn’t asked for any details, only giving him an affectionate hair ruffle. In the Council chambers, they’re a king and a prince, not father and son. He hates it, but he’s grown used to it.

You had your physical with the doctor last week, and were finally cleared for physical activity. The past few weeks you’ve been with them has had its ups-and-downs, but your mood has skyrocketed since you heard the news.

He likes to think that spending the day together helped, too. Prom has joined in the past couple times the two of you put that show on; you seem to enjoy it a lot. And you started wearing his hoodie again, too—he hadn’t realized how long it’d been since you’d worn it around until you threw it on the other night. If he was an omega, he would’ve purred at the sight.

If you’re gonna be training with Gladio, they had to bring up your existence to the Council before the rumor mill got to them. Not that they’ve been keeping you a very big secret, but it’s mostly a handful of his father’s Glaives that know about you. Until now.

Gladio didn’t have to be on guard duty for this meeting, but Noct and Ignis didn’t question it when he got dressed in his official fatigues and followed them out. They’d told you the gist of what they had to talk about during this meeting, and you looked worried, but hopefully having Prom with you will help.

There were a few off-handed comments during the meeting about the prince having another “refugee commoner” as an omega. Ignis had to keep bringing up that this wasn’t about adding you to their pack, only letting you stay under his care.

He still needs to talk to Prom about his reveal of being from Niflheim, all those weeks ago. Time’s been moving too quickly, and everyone is always so tired since they’ve gotten back. Noct doesn’t care—he’d never asked what was in Prom’s background check, just that he passed. But Prom cares. So Noct needs to set him straight.

Unfortunely, he needs to make sure you aren’t kicked out of the Citadel, first.

And once he and Ignis finally get your background sorted out and your memories back, he can’t wait to rub it in the Council’s faces. Professionally, of course.

Maybe.

The Council doesn’t give a shit about the fact that you’re predestined mates, and some didn’t care about the imprint bond, either.

“If one of the ways to fix an imprint bond is to cut off contact, why shouldn’t this omega girl be sent away?” One Councilman asked. “It would free His Highness from the responsibility completely.”

“Cutting off an imprint bond is very dangerous, and is highly advised against by medical professionals unless the pair is a danger to each other. And Miss Y/N has already been cleared by security personnel,” Ignis replied, even though Noct had already said all that at the beginning of their discussion. “The current method puts His Highness’ health at priority, especially considering our current political climate.”

The point couldn’t be brought up again without anyone implying that his health isn’t their priority, so it was thankfully dropped. Your heath wasn’t brought up a single time in the conversation.

Noctis is always the priority. Always, always.

For fuck’s sake.

Once he and his dad say goodbye to Clarus, and the door of his dad’s chambers close behind them, Noctis sags and groans.

His dad chuckles. “You did well, my star. You’ve certainly grown since you were having dear Prompto vetted for your pack.”

He rubs the back of his neck and flops onto the armchair by the fireplace.

“Uh, thanks. We did get the best-case scenario, I guess.”

“Indeed. I’m sure between you and Ignis, you can find what you need for Miss Y/N.”

Six months. The Council gave him a six-month courting period under extreme circumstances where you could stay with him and the pack in their chambers. If they couldn’t find any background information for you by then, you would have to leave the Citadel entirely, and live in the city under their Refugee Protection Program. Which, with what Prom dealt with growing up, is severely lacking.

Noct suddenly realizes his dad is still getting the tea together, and starts to stand.

“Dad, lemme get that—”

His dad holds up a hand before grabbing the tea tray and walking over with his cane. He sets the tray down on the end table and takes the armchair on the other side.

“Your old man can still handle boiling good tea in a kettle, you know,” he says.

Noct snorts and pours the cups for them. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

He adds a few sugar packets to his own tea and blows on it before taking a sip. He hums as the warmth runs through him. It’s fruity and sweet—his favorite.

His dad raises an eyebrow at him.

Noct shrugs. “Not bad, for an old man.”

He chuckles and sips at his own cup. Noct sighs and leans back in the chair.

“I wish they wouldn’t be so strict with royal packs,” he laments. “I’m still getting married to whoever, so why do they care so much?”

His dad doesn’t reply for a few moments.

“Noctis. I think you need to hear a story.”

The drop in mood is significant, and Noct frowns, leaning forward.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve told you a bit about my old road trip with Clarus and the others, before I was to be wed with your mother, yes?”

Noct can’t help but roll his eyes. “Yeah, dad.”

His dad’s lips quirk up, just a bit.

“Well, back under King Mors’ rule, royal pack rules weren’t nearly as strict. It had to be filed, with a silly amount of paperwork, but that was all. And during our trip, we all grew quite close. Near the end, we decided to become pack.”

“What?”

Noctis thinks back to every time he’s seen Cor and Clarus, not a mark in sight. Gladio’s is hidden on his thigh, only because marking another alpha on their neck can be…difficult. But those two are betas. On their trip, the only other alpha with his dad was Cid.

“We thought it was awful leaving Weskham in Altissia with such a fresh bond, but his injuries were too severe. We promised to write every chance we could, and then we left for home. When we’d talked everything through, I told them all I would just file before anyone found out, and it would be fine. Cid was the only one on my side, really, but everyone ended up going through with it, in the end. I’d already written about everything to Aulea, and she was excited to meet them all.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on his dad’s face.

“King Mors found out almost immediately. We’d been traveling in countryside for so long, with only each other, we’d forgotten how strong pack scents could be.”

Noctis wishes that they had sat on the couch instead; the urge to curl up next to his dad like he’s a child overtakes him.

“He was furious. He’d barely signed off on the trip in the first place, and he didn’t even know Weskham and Cid, but he despised them. Since we’d bonded before the proper paperwork…he forced me to break the bonds.”

“…All of them?” Noct whispers. His grip is tight on his tea cup, the liquid inside gone cold.

“How much do you know about breaking bonds, Noctis?”

“It’s really dangerous, for both mates.”

His dad stares into the fire. “If the pack leader breaks one bond, all the bonds of the pack are broken.”

“…Dad—”

“We weren’t able to write to Weskham until days after. Everything happened so quickly. By the time Aulea arrived at the Citadel, Cid had left—beyond angry at me for not fighting harder—and the king had changed the rules for a royal pack to what they are now. Technically, I could’ve reformed something with Clarus and Cor, and the Council always pushed for your mother and I to bond because it’s supposed to help with having children, but…”

His dad sighs. Noctis can’t find the words to comfort him. His own bond aches in his chest. His dad leans across the table to stroke Noct’s hair.

“I am so sorry, my star. I’ve been unable to change anything back, most of the Council still remembers the scandal that it caused when I was your age. But I have faith in you and your pack to find what you need to help your mate.”

Noctis leans into his dad’s touch, and grabs his hand.

“You wanna play cards?” He croaks.

His dad returns his watery smile with his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a hard-fought battle to see who would get the first kiss with lovely Reader, and Prom barely managed a victory.
> 
> I know it's short, but this is the last chapter of the intro arc, so get ready, ya'll. I'm so excited to share more. <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first A/B/O and reader story but I'm quarantined from my creative writing classes so we're divin right in friends


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